The Book Keeper
by slothsational
Summary: When word of the Book of Friends somehow get out to the exorcists, a senile old god takes it upon himself to help Natsume protect the book from danger. The results of this help may be more trouble than Natsume wants to deal with.
1. Chapter 1

A shallow gasp. Escaping before he could stop it. It boomed like a clap of thunder in the dark room.

"Nyanko-sensei?" he called after a hesitant moment.

There was no response.

 _You just imagined it, Takashi. There's nothing there_ , he tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to reassure himself. He pulled the covers up to his chin, clutching at them with shaking fingers.

Against his will, his tired eyes closed. Earlier that day he had returned a name, and his body still hadn't recovered. As he felt his consciousness drifting, he heard it again, the soft pattering of feet across the floor. His eyes opened instantly.

And came face to face with large red hollow eyes inches from his own. His arm moved on instinct even as he let out a yelp of surprise.

The hit never landed. As the boy swung, it reached out with quick hands and placed a finger to the child's forehead. He slumped unconscious to the bed, and the ayakashi looked him over, an unreadable expression in its large glowing eyes.

"No time." It muttered to itself, pulling the child into its arms. "No time at all." With a quick glance around the room the ayakashi's eyes rested on the schoolbag lying on the desk nearby. After a quick peak at its contents, it laid the bag gently on the boy's defenseless form.

Then, just as quietly as it had arrived, it was gone. When Nyanko-sensei stumbled into the room several hours later, mumbling a song to himself drunkenly, it was to find an empty room.

When Natsume opened his eyes, it was to see green. His brain blearily attempted to understand how he had gone from being in bed to suddenly being within the canopy of the forest. As his brain slowly connected dots and memories resurfaced, he bolted upright.

"Ho ho ho. Finally awake are we?" Natsume whirled around, stumbling to his feet as he faced his kidnapper. Familiar red eyes looked at him, a large toothy grin quickly drawing his eye to the rest of the ayakashi. Natsume had seen many strange things over the years, but he thought this could be considered one of the weirdest. It was tall. Its head and arms were thin, but its body was almost teardrop shaped, starting small but puddling together in a big fat lump that his scrawny legs somehow supported. Bright red hair sprouted from its head and trailed down its back like a mane. Its skin was pitch black, with white circles at its elbows and knees. It had fox ears, a lizard tail and a small set of feathery wings that flapped with its every move.

"Who are you?" Natsume asked. The ayakashi did not respond, flapping its hands about as it beckoned him to a small stump nearby. On it was a selection of berries and mushrooms. Natsume felt his eyebrows rise in surprise, but wandered over to the stump anyway. He could almost hear Nyanko-sensei scolding him for being too careless and trusting of other ayakashi. But Natsume couldn't help it. Once he had started to learn about ayakashi and had learned how kind some of them could be, he couldn't just treat them all as unfeeling monsters. It would be the equivalent of all the abuse he had received from judgmental guardians over the years. And Natsume refused to bestow the same kind of pain he had received his whole life.

That being said, he couldn't quite muster up the ability to actually _eat_ any of the food the ayakashi had offered him. He did know enough about ayakashi to know that they didn't know much about humans or their eating habits. He doubted the berried were actually edible.

"Why am I here?" Natsume tried again as he sat down. The ayakashi settled in front of him and regarded him for a quiet moment, tilting its head as it stared at him. Natsume felt himself squirm under the scrutiny, still unsure of what the ayakashi could possibly want from him.

"You are as strange as the rumors say, Natsume-san." It picked up a bug that had wandered onto the table and ate it before continuing. "Even more strange than Reiko-sama."

"You met Reiko?" Natsume blurted out excitedly, only to be discouraged when the ayakashi shook its head.

"One of my small followers met her on a trip. She took his name, and we worried for years that she would call him away to a far distant mountain and that he would not know how to find his way home. But she never called."

Natsume nodded his head, it was something he had heard from many ayakashi, that Reiko never called any of the bound ayakashi to come to her after taking their names. He still wondered why she had made the Book of Friends in the first place. At the thought of the book, Natsume panicked. He noticed the absence of the familiar weight of his bag across his shoulders, and sighed in relief remembering he had been abducted from home. The book wasn't on him in the first place.

"Tell me, Natsume Takashi…" Natsume found himself looking into the unnerving red eyes of the ayakashi before him, unable to move. The back of his brain screamed that he should have been more careful. He didn't know how powerful or dangerous this ayakashi could be. He could hear Nyanko-sensei's scolding voice, 'stupid, naïve Natsume! Why do you let so many small-fry get to you?'

"I have heard that you return names of the ayakashi bound in the Book of Friends. Is this true?"

"Yes." The answer came forced from his lips, not that Natsume would have withheld such information.

"Why?" The ayakashi tilted its head curiously.

"…" Natsume had no easy answer, and found himself nearly choking on air as his body felt compelled to give one. "It's the right thing to do," he finally gasped out. He felt more than saw the ayakashi's surprise, its hold over his body slipping and allowing him to move once again. He bolted to his feet immediately. He needed to get home, wherever home was.

"If you want, I will give the name of your friend back, as long as he has no intention of harming anyone." He backed away from the ayakashi slowly, nearly tripping over a rock. "But I need to get home, my family will be worried if I disappear." He turned and ran into the foliage. A black and red blur raced into vision faster than he could comprehend, and he ran right into the ayakashi's rock solid grip. With no effort, it dragged him back to the stump. With a flick of its tail the stump was cleared of berries and he pushed the human onto it. Natsume fell back in surprise, tumbling off the back of the stump.

"Why do you return the names?" the ayakashi asked, its eyes alight with some emotion Natsume did not recognize.

"N-Nyanko-sensei always gets mad when I do it, but I know it's the right thing to do. They should be free. I'm the only one who can do it, and it's my responsibility as Reiko's grandson. If I don't do it no-one will." Natsume's voice shook. He tried to stay calm, but he was scared. He hadn't even had time to throw a punch. This was not an ayakashi he was capable of escaping from, and who knew where Nyanko-sensei had gotten off to.

"Ho ho ho." The ayakashi laughed, hunkering down so that its face was inches from Natsume.

"Tell me, child," it whispered. "What would you do if the Book of Friends were in danger?" Natsume's eyes widened.

"Danger?" he asked. He sensed this question was deeper than it sounded.

"Any kind of danger." Natsume's mind reeled. He had never thought of it before, never had to think of it before. He just kept it safe, it was just what needed to be done, there had never been a conscious thought in the action before.

"I-I don't-" he started. But his voice caught in his throat when the ayakashi raised a hand and directed Natsume's gaze to the right. As he glanced over his breathing stopped altogether as he saw the Book of Friends dangling in the branches of a tree over a cliff he hadn't noticed before. He could hear what sounded like rushing water, and assumed that below the cliff was a river.

 _"Whatever happens to the Book of Friends will affect the ayakashi whose names are in the book. You rip a page, it rips apart that ayakashi. You light it on fire, and those ayakashi burst into flames. If it gets wet…"_

 _If that book gets wet all those ayakashi will die._ The thought overtook Natsume and before he even realized what he was doing he was up and running, his eyes glued to the book as a gust of wind swayed the small branch and it tilted ever closer to the edge. As it fell, he felt himself leaping forward to snatch it from the air. He let out a relieved sigh until his foot caught and he felt himself tripping forward towards the river. For the first time he realized how fast the water was raging past below him. He only had a moment to assess the situation before he flung the book towards the edge of the cliff and safety. He heard it hit down with a soft _thump_ and then he was engulfed in water.

He struggled, and twirled, but he had no way of telling up from down. His floundering limbs smacked against rocks and branches. He smacked into something large, and sucked in water as he gasped in pain. He choked and thrashed, but it was no use. The edges of his vision blackened and he thought he saw a streak of red before it was all swallowed up.

The ayakashi felt bad as he pulled the human from the water. He had not realized how weak humans truly were until he had seen it fight uselessly against the river current. He had not meant to cause the boy harm, but it had been a necessary test.

And the child had passed.

Being careful with the child, the ayakashi wandered back to its home and the fallen Book of Friends. He lay the boy down carefully beside the book.

It was time. Lifting a finger to his mouth, the ayakashi used a sharp tooth to draw blood. He smeared it in a complex pattern across Natsume's face, arms and chest. Then, lifting the book reverently, he lay it on the boy's chest, resting his own hands atop it and allowed his power to do what it must. He felt the drain, and watched as black inked scribbles slid from the book and began to make a new home within the young human. With the last of his power he sealed the deal with his own name, watching as his blood formed into his name and then turned inky black as it settled on the boy's skin, joining the rest of the swirling mass. With a pleased sigh he sat back to appreciate his work.

"RIniki-sama, is this wise?" a small childish voice made him jump in surprise. "Is this not dangerous for both us and him?" Riniki looked down at his little follower with a smile. The bird-like ayakashi had vibrant blue feathers and long catfish whiskers just behind its beak.

"It is the only way I can think to truly protect the names, little one." He replied. "Too many of our enemies have heard of the book. The exorcists will not stop searching for it. But they will never look for a book in a child."

"But was it worth giving up your freedom?" the small ayakashi questioned. "It is unheard of for a God to give his name, let alone bestow his powers to a human child."

"You just don't want to have to take up your new title as my chosen heir."

"When I said I would be your heir, I did not except you to give up your title so soon."

"Yes, well I knew you were not clairvoyant when I chose you. It worked in my favor."

"Your jokes are not funny."

"Ho ho ho. You simply lack a proper sense of humor, my child."

Nyanko-sensei was furious. He could not find that dumb child anywhere. He had searched all over the forest, high and low. He had bugged those idiotic weaklings who always came to bug Natsume and even asked Hinoe for help, but the whelp was nowhere to be found!

'Baka," he thought angrily, as his stomach growled loudly enough to startle some tiny bird-like ayakashi from a nearby bush. He watched them fly away in a dazed panic. With a final flick of his stubby paw he scampered back towards the Fujiwara's house. If the idiot Natsume would not come home for dinner, _he_ would take his place—and his portion of scrupulous dinner, as payback for his marvelous self's efforts.

Having not found hide nor hair of the boy after hours of searching, it was a great shock to fly into Natsume's room and find the boy lying sprawled on the floor by his bed, covers askew. The boy's shirt had ridden up and his pale stomach was exposed for the world to see. Nyanko-sensei held back a snicker before he remembered how long he had wandered searching for the boy who had been at home the whole time. With a mischievous smile he gracefully snuck towards the side, though not _that_ gracefully—he was a pig-cat after all, and was about to pounce on the unsuspecting sleeper when a knock came at the door. The spirit froze in its crouch, caught in the act.

"Takashi?" Touko peaked her head in the door, her eyes wandering the room before settling on the sleeping boy with a soft chuckle. "You'll get sick if you leave your stomach exposed in this cool night air." She quietly came across the room and settled several blankets over her young charge.

With one last loving look the older woman left the room, so focused on Natsume that she didn't even notice his mischievous cat. With a huff Nyanko-sensei curled up by the boy's shoulder. His eyes drifted closed as he calmed from the panic of losing the boy, only to dart open a moment later. His eyes scanned the room with a predatory glare before settling on Natsume's schoolbag. It lay open, and the Book of Friends lay exposed.

For a moment Nyanko-sensei was tempted to steal the book as he had often threatened to do in the past. But in the end, he simply sighed, waddled over to the bag and closed it. Nyanko-sensei then sat on top of the bag to dissuade any possible intruders from attempting to touch _his_ property.

Nyanko-sensei often wondered if the book was worth all the trouble and effort it took to guard it and its young keeper. He was strong enough that he didn't truly need the book. It was just something nice to have that would increase the respect he received from other spirits. When Nyanko-sensei had decided to leave the book in the possession of Natsume, it had been because he was bored and it sounded like a short entertainment. When he got bored, he could just take the book, eat the brat and be gone.

He never meant to get attached.

Natori was fidgeting.

It irritated him more than he cared to admit to even himself. As an actor and as a trained exorcist, he was extremely proud of the control he had over his composure and person. He wasn't supposed to be prone to displaying his feelings of agitation. Or worry.

Natsume.

The teenager was never far from the exorcist's mind. Natsume was much more powerful than any other person Natori had ever met, and he didn't like how many ayakashi the young man attracted. It wasn't safe. And now, knowing about the Book of Friends, Natori only worried more. He had dug up as much information as he could as soon he could after first discovering the long-hidden secret the boy had been carting around in his bag like it was not a very dangerous, very illegal ayakashi article. He hadn't liked what he had discovered.

And now, somehow, one of his sources had leaked. All the nearby clans had somehow become privy to the information about the Book of Friends, and he knew that Matoba was likely to act sooner rather than later. Matoba had always had a strange transfixion for Natsume, and Natori worried what he would do now with more information to hold against innocent, trusting Natsume.

The train wasn't moving fast enough. Natori had headed for Natsume's home as soon as he was freed from his most recent movie set. It was too far away. He wouldn't arrive until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. He clutched his pants to stop fidgeting and prayed to all the gods that Natsume would stay safe until he could arrive to protect him.

Natsume woke to the smell of something sweet that had soured horribly. His nose wrinkled up even as he registered the heavy weight on his chest and the source of the horrible smell. Nyanko-sensei was back, and he was hung over. If he weren't always out drinking he would have been here to protect Natsume from the weird ayakashi and the Book of Friends wouldn't have almost fallen of the cliff and Natsume wouldn't have nearly—

"Wah! Stupid brat! Don't sit up so suddenly, I was sleeping there! Such an ungrateful brat!"

"The Book!" Natsume was across the room in a moment, not even attempting to reason out how he had gotten back to his room after his fall into the river. By all accounts he should be dead, but he wasn't and so it didn't matter right now. What did matter was the Book of Friends and the fact that the names of those ayakashi could be at risk.

"Don't ignore me you stupid worthless piece of meat!" Nyanko was always extra irritable when he was hung over. Natsume was well-versed in ignoring his drunken, hurtful words. He had years of practice ignoring such things after all.

The book was in his bag, looking as unobtrusive and ordinary as always. Natsume sighed and sat back with a rush of relief. His brow furrowed. If the ayakashi hadn't wanted the book, then why take Natsume and it in the first place? Something just didn't make sense.

"You reek brat. What intrusive low-life did you wander off with this time?" Nyanko rambled at him. He sniffed at Natsume half-heartedly, then sat up straight. All signs of drunkenness were suddenly gone as his eyes glared intently at Natsume. He got up in Natsume's face and sniffed again.

"Why do I smell a god on you? What insufferable snooty god would waste their time seeking out such a weakling like you?"

"I-y-a- a god?" Natsume spluttered. Surely not. That weird looking spirit may have been powerful, but he hadn't looked like any of the other God's Natsume had run into before.

"A god." Nyanko said with another decisive sniff. "A powerful one at that. Not one of those dumb human-idol worship-seekers either. A good old-fashioned yokai god."

There was silence for a moment before Nyanko seemed to catch up with his own words.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH A GOD, YOU IDIOT? HOW ARE YOU NOT GOD-FOOD RIGHT NOW?" Natsume covered his ears and flinched back as much as he could with an overweight pig-cat sitting on his legs.

"Ho ho ho. I believe I can answer that question," came an amused voice. Nyanko leapt into the air with a roar. In a large swirl of power and lights a giant white fox glared down at the now much smaller looking tear-shaped ayakashi. Rather than cower as Nyanko expected all spirits to do in his magnificent presence, the ayakashi only smiled a too-sharp grin at the fox and shook out his red mane. Red sparks flew into the air, and as soon as one of them touched Nyanko there was an instant 'poof' and a disgruntled snort as the spirit found himself trapped once again in his cursed pig-cat form. He scampered immediately to stand behind Natsume and glared daggers at the other spirit.

"Nyanko-sensei?" Natsume asked worriedly.

"What does stupid god-sama want?" Nyanko asked petulantly, like a young child denied its favorite toy.

"I came only to check on the Boy of Friends." The spirit said with another chuckle, slowly wandering over to stand in front of Natsume.

"You mean the _Book_ of Friends?" Natsume asked, a wrinkle creasing his forehead.

"No. I meant the _Boy_ of Friends." Without further words he stretched out a hand and touched it to Natsume's brow. Natsume felt something stir inside of him, like a well of water suddenly surging for the surface. With a gasp, he felt a wind pick up around him, and looking down instinctively, he saw that his hands and arms were covered in the squiggly lines of the language of the yokai. Glancing at the small mirror in his room, he saw that his whole body was covered, even his face, in moving black names. His eyes, normally a strange amber-ish yellow were glowing with a golden light, and his narrow slits had lengthened even more; his eyes looked like those of a cat. Light shimmered around his form.

Natsume shivered. He didn't even look human anymore.

"Welcome to the world of yokai, Natsume-sama." The god said, an eerie sharp smile gracing his face. "I hope that if you have any questions or concerns about your duties as a god you feel free to come to me. I've so missed having fellow gods to converse with."


	2. Chapter 2

Deep within the fortress of the Matoba clan hidden deep within a forbidden forest high on the mountains, a young, terrified man was running. His formal robes floundered in the air as he raced forward, his footsteps pounding out an urgent beat on the wooden floor. The elders who lay peacefully meditating or attending to clan matters paused and glared as he broke proprietary norms and disrespected them with his racket. Some sighed, knowing that such an urgent matter that required such unsightly disrespect must be due to the obsession the youngest Matoba heir had developed with that strange young boy and his worryingly powerful fox shiki.

Ever since the young master had discovered the boy, he had been laying aside years of tradition in order to antagonize the boy. Many of the clan elders worried that it would bring them to ruin, but a hopeful few liked to think that it would bring an end to the ayakashi curse that had been a handicap for their tribe for too long. There were less dangerous ways to show power over ayakashi than to have the unnerving deadly focus of an angry yokai with a legitimate claim to revenge.

Either way, none of the elders appreciated the disrespect and irreverence the Matoba heir's younger followers displayed. It was unsightly of such an old, upstanding house.

The young man ran on, oblivious to the scrutiny and glares. His news could not wait.

Matoba's study was a very brightly lit room filled with books. Everything was organized and had a place. Despite how it looked, most who entered there couldn't help but feel a shiver go up their spines, as if unseen spirits were looking at them from all angles. Considering how many shiki Matoba commanded, the young man thought this feeling to be right, and he avoided the office when he could. Today he would not have the opportunity to be so lucky.

"Matoba-san," he gasped out upon flinging himself through the door. "There was a large spiritual disturbance at the residence you had us watching."

"A large spiritual disturbance?" Matoba's silky voice confirmed, sharp gaze focused on the messenger with a hungry light. What had been a casual and bored pose at his desk morphed instantaneously into that of a predator ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

"It's the largest recorded spiritual wave in the last century. Even old Mariko-san said she had never felt something so powerful in all her years." The man expounded. "Something powerful has shown up."

"Then I guess its about time I made a visit to the Fujiwara residence once more, isn't it?"

The grin Matoba allowed to grace his face did not settle the messenger's nerves at all.

…

Natsume was panicking.

Years of lessons on self-preservation meant that only a trace of his feelings bled through to his eyes, leaving the rest of him to appear casually content where he stood in his room facing a deceptive yokai-god who had apparently stolen his humanity and turned him into an ayakashi, but inside he was beyond terrified. The slightest of tremors graced his fingers, but that was all.

Nyanko was not fooled in the slightest. Months of close observation had led him to understand this boy in a very personal sense. He could feel the tremor of Natsume's power and he stared at that slight tremor in the boy's hands.

It was a huge tell, and Nyanko couldn't help but be upset with any spirit who distressed his boy enough for him to show it. He would make this spirit regret it, even if he didn't fully understand why his boy was upset in the first place.

Stupid human child. Always inconveniencing him with his stupid annoying problems.

"Takashi, breakfast is—oh, hello Nyanko. Natsume must be in the bathroom. Nudge him on down for breakfast when he gets out won't you? I have some errands to run and can't afford to wait on them any longer, but I wanted to make sure there was at least food for you two." Touko chatted at the pig-cat in her usual calm voice before smiling and retreating downstairs.

The room was quiet as they listened to the rustling of shoes being put on and then heard the door open and close quietly downstairs.

"N-Nyanko sensei—" Natsume's voice came out choked and ragged.

This was unacceptable to Nyanko. With a poof he forced himself from his cursed form and curled his large fluffy but magnificent body around his boy, wrapping his tail in tight as Natsume took up a tight grip on his fur.

"Undo it," Nyanko demanded. His eyes glared holes into the yokai-god that had settled itself like a dog on the carpet and was playing with its toes. It froze however at his words, looking up with a cool disinterest at the fox spirit.

" _Un-_ do it?" He simpered angrily. "I cannot simply _un_ do a spiritual transformation. He is a god now. You can't just take that away. I could take back my power, take back my name, but the infusion of the Book of Friends into his soul was not something that can be undone. They are a part of his very being, have awakened that part of his natural power that was capable of god-hood. Taking them away now would mean his death. No _god_ can survive without followers, even a god of yokai." His eyes narrowed. "As you well know, you overgrown kit. Don't think I don't know what you are. Wandering around intimidating spirits and shirking off your duties makes no difference in who you are. If anything, you should use this opportunity to take up your duties and do them right for once in your existence."

"Don't presume to lecture me, old fart," Nyanko hissed. "My screw-up never caused anything so bad as to separate a child from its loved ones."

Natsume let out a shuddering sob at this, drawing Nyanko's attention and killing his ire in one blow.

"Hey, brat, don't worry, we'll find a way to fix this."

"The Fu-Fujiwaras—" Natsume explained brokenly. Nyanko didn't need to hear more to understand Natsume. Ever the selfless independent child he was, he was always more worried about what his interactions would mean for them than what they would mean for Natsume. Whenever he almost got eaten, he was more worried about how the Fujiwaras would be impacted by his disappearance and the trouble it could cause them with the authorities than he was about considering how he had nearly died. Granted, Nyanko thought that may have to do with a desensitization to the idea of dying after too many near-death encounters. The kid had an unhealthy familiarity with dangerous happenstances.

It just made Nyanko worry more about the dumb brat.

"You are powerful, young godling." The senile god seemed oblivious to the turmoil he had caused for Natsume, not even looking remorseful for possibly separating Natsume from his family. He may be a god attached to his followers, but he did not understand the concept of _family_ or understand the relationship between parents and children. A young spirit was left on its own from birth, capable of being on its own. Why would a human child be any different?

"I am sure that with time and practice you can learn to place an illusion over your true self that can be visible to humans."

Natsume's head jerked up at that, wide eyes meeting indifferent red.

"How?" Nyanko tucked his tail around the brat tighter to keep his charge from leaning too far forward and actually approaching the annoying god.

"Ho ho ho," the god laughed at Natsume's question. "Well I wouldn't know. Every ayakashi's power is different. A god's even more so. But don't you worry, give yourself a few decades to grow into your power and it will become as easy as breathing."

Natsume's face crumpled.

"Decades?!" Nyanko felt as Natsume stiffened up, his fingers pulling painfully at his fur as he tightened his grip subconsciously. The brat was thinking too hard again, he was going to go into shock at this rate.

Feeling helpless, Nyanko did the only thing he could. He growled at the god and allowed his power to swirl in the air threateningly.

The yokai gave the fox an amused smile, then bowed towards Natsume.

"I see you need time to come to terms with your greatness, Natsume-sama. You have my name, call me if you have any more questions." With that he sauntered to the window and let himself out, disappearing faster than Nyanko's eyes could track him.

Unsatisfied, Nyanko got up and nudged Natsume towards the door. He may not have a solution, but eating always made him feel better.

Besides, the brat had always been too skinny for his liking. Stupid humans didn't feed him well enough growing up.

Natsume allowed himself to be steered downstairs like a doll without a purpose. His feet shuffled the bare minimum necessary to keep him from tripping, and when nudged to the kitchen table, he folded onto a chair as if all his strings had been cut. Sometime along the course of their trip downstairs he had started crying. Silent, disturbingly _larg_ etears, in Nyanko's opinion, ran in streams down his cheeks.

But he ate, and Nyanko felt glad for that at least.

After he had finished eating, Nyanko nudged the child over to the back door, where the sun was shining bright on the back lawn. He nudged and shifted Natsume until he was in a comfortable patch of grass in the lawn and then wrapped himself around the boy. His body ached a bit from keeping in his spiritual form for so long, but he did not feel comfortable leaving the child anything but completely bundled up in his spiritual energy. He curled himself around the child and they sat there, listening to the birds sing and the wind tousle the leaves in the trees.

…

Natori knew something was wrong as soon as he got to the Fujiwara residence in the late afternoon. Something about the house just felt _off_. The shikigami that Natori had hidden around the front gates of the house were all burnt and non-functional. It looked as if a strong spirit had come along and overcharged them until they burnt out from too much power. Natori didn't know of many yokai capable of such a feat and it worried him more than he cared to admit. The cynic in him was already wondering if Natsume was even here still.

"I sense a strong presence," Hiiragi murmured, appearing soundlessly at his side. Natori huffed at the unhelpfully vague comment. Hiiragi had the tendency to be less than forthcoming with information. Natori had been less than thrilled to find out that one of his shiki had known for months about Natsume having the Book of Friends without informing him. Even now she only added small tidbits about it, never coming out and giving him everything she knew. She claimed it was better that such knowledge not be spread among humans, but Natori thought it was prudent he knew everything he could if he was to help Natsume.

Hiiragi and him hadn't been on the best of terms because of her silence. Her comments had been even more vague and unhelpful than usual as a result.

"Where?" he barked. There was no time to lose with Natsume mixed up in all of this. He could only hope that the Fujiwaras hadn't somehow gotten involved. That would tear the kid apart, Natori knew.

"…the back of the house." Hiiragi said after a moment's silence. "I sense no human presence."

Natori grit his teeth. Where was Natsume?

Needing answers, the exorcist moved forward purposefully, every step as graceful as a lion stalking prey. Wary of entering the residence without an invitation, Natori skirted around the edge of the house, absently noting the flower arrangements adorning the yard. The only time Natsume ever really opened up and talked was when he spoke of the Fujiwaras, and Natori remembered Natsume had mentioned recently how he had enjoyed helping Touko plan out and plant all the flowers in the garden. They had done a good job.

He hoped the boy would be able to continue enjoying those flowers with his relatives.

Natori braced himself for an attack as he rounded the last corner of the house, shikigami in hand and ready for use at a moment's notice.

His shikigami fell forgotten to the ground as his eyes registered the sight before him. His breath caught in his throat for a moment in relief before anxiety washed it away again.

"Natsume!"

He scrambled forward without a single hesitation. Nyanko, the great beast, let out a relieved hiss as he untangled himself from around the small boy, and with a painful moan regressed back to his pig-cat form. He looked exhausted, something Natori had never seen before.

But Natsume was even more worrying.

The boy looked ethereal. He had always had a remarkable complexion. His honey hair and eyes had given him an other-worldly sort of beauty when combined with his small, fragile body. Now that honey tone had gone golden, sparkling in the light. The boy's eyes fluttered open, and Natori took in the gold cat-eyes staring up at him in glazed confusion as he stirred from his sleep. Black lines that had been covering every speck of open skin burst into movement as if waking with the boy. Natori took them in helpless to know what was wrong or how they had gotten there.

"Natori-san?" Natsume asked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. His eyes suddenly widened as he roused himself fully from sleep, and the boy was suddenly throwing himself into Natori's arms. "Natori-san!"

Natori felt the kid's body shudder, and realized as a horrible choking sound left the boy that Natsume was sobbing and clinging to him like a limpet. Natori allowed his long-abandoned parenting instincts to take over, and slowly wrapped his arms around the teenager, patting him gently on the back.

He had no idea what to do. He stared down at the ground overwhelmed. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he watched as a black squiggly line danced around Natsume's ankle and across the bottom of the boy's foot before starting the cycle over. Another line of squiggles came and crawled across the top of it, wrapping itself into the space of Natsume's big toe where it seemed to settle contently.

Natori watched it all in horror, Hiiragi's words coming back to him from minutes ago.

 _I sense no human presence._

Was this _really_ Natsume Takashi? Or an ayakashi trick?

"To-Touko-san couldn't see me." The heartbroken voice of Natsume said, as finally, the boy seemed to settle and the _thing_ in his arms pulled back to look at Natori. Its eyes were red-rimmed and shining like sparklers. With a start Natori noted that the boy was also _glowing_ with residual spirit energy.

If it even was a boy.

"Na-Natori-san?" The thing that looked a bit like Natsume asked, stiffening. Natori kept a loose grip on its arms, wary of what it would do if it felt threatened.

"What did you do with Natsume?" Natori growled as he pulled out a shikigami, holding it out threateningly near the thing's neck. It would not be quick enough to get away unscathed if it attempted to attack him or escape without giving him information on where the real Natsume was.

"Natori?" The thing's eyes widened in an admittedly good imitation of Natsume's startled expression. "What are yo-" The thing cut of with a yelp as Natori brushed the shikigami against its neck briefly, causing a harsh electric shock.

"Where is Natsume? The human boy?" Natori asked again, voice cold and clinical. Ayakashi did not deserve respect or care. Especially ones that hurt human children.

The thing slumped, tears streaming down its cheeks in an appalling display of fake emotion. Natsume never cried. What a terrible ruse. Natori sat stoically, waiting for an answer. He brought the shikigami closer to the thing's neck in a subtle reminder of the consequences of a refusal to answer the question. The thing trembled as if afraid, its eyes darting from his face to the surrounding area quickly, even as it continued to cry. Natori braced for any movement. He would not allow it to escape until he had Natsume back safely.

Finally, the thing gulped and opened its mouth.

"I-I am Natsume," it lied. Natori saw red. He pounced forward, pushing the thing onto its back in the grass, and pressing the shikigami to its neck for a few seconds. The yokai cried out in pain, but Natori did not care.

"Where is the real Natsume?" He growled out after the thing had stopped screaming. It huffed in great gulping breaths, its hands clawing uselessly at where Natori was pushing its shoulder into the ground. It looked up at him in pain for a moment before looking away. As it turned its head he felt the thing stiffen underneath him.

"Nyanko-sensei!" it cried out hoarsely. Natori had to drop his whole body onto the thing to keep it from moving as its struggles suddenly took on a new strength. After several minutes of struggling and incoherent demands to be let free, it finally slumped in submission.

"Please," it whispered. "Please will you see if he is okay?" Natori opened his mouth to tell him just how much he would _not_ be moving to check on the pig-cat while Natsume was missing, Hiiragi's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I will, godling-sama." Hiiragi floated over and knelt over the pig-cat. Natori stared at her in blank shock. Hiiragi was _his_ shiki. It only ever obeyed _him_. Well, okay, she had a definite soft spot for Natsume but the thing below him was not—

"Natsume?"

How had he not seen it? No matter how skillful an ayakashi could be, they would never be able to understand Natsume Takashi's selflessness, let alone mimic it.

 _I am Natsume_.

The worry for the dumb pig-cat. The fact that it hadn't outright attacked him. Even now, as he held it captured and its only words had been about the family Natsume cherished and the spirit that hardly left his side.

The very same spirit that had been wrapped around this thing when Natori had arrived.

Natori was an _idiot_.

"Oh my gosh." He wrapped his hands around Natsume's face, taking in the changes there, but also the things that were still the same. " _Natsume_."

"Natori-san." The boy's voice was a soft, relieved whisper. Wordlessly, for Natsume had never been one for many words, the boy's thin hands sought out and clutched to Natori's shirt. The boy was shaking, and tears were streaming from his eyes again.

"The pig-cat will be fine, godling-sama," Hiiragi said, reappearing at their side. "He simply overused his spiritual form and the curse backlash has exhausted his energy. He will sleep and then be fine."

"Thank you, Hiiragi." Natsume whispered. They all sat in silence, each taking in what had just happened and unsure of how to proceed. Natori's mind caught on to something he didn't understand.

"Godling?" he asked, looking up at Hiiragi. For once, his shiki seemed to think his question deserved a full answer.

"I call him godling because that is what he is now. Natsume was a strong human with an extremely large amount of spiritual energy. Someone used that energy to merge his soul with the powers of an ayakashi god. I could sense no humans here because Natsume is no longer human. He has become a baby-god, still growing into his powers."

"How is that even possible?" Natori asked in disbelief.

"…"

"The Book of Friends." Natsume whispered. Natori's head whipped around so fast his neck cracked.

"What about it, Natsume?" He prodded when the boy said no more.

"It's not a book anymore." Natori opened his mouth for another explanation when the boy raised his hands up in between them.

A very large squiggly line wrapped around the left palm and back up the boy's arm, even as other smaller lines wiggled around across his fingers and palms. A squiggle wove in a tight circle on his right palm, in a never-ending loop. Natori stared at them in silence for a moment before comprehension dawned.

"No." he said.

But the evidence staring back at him said _yes_.


	3. Chapter 3

Natsume felt disconnected.

From his body, from his emotions, and more disconnected from the world than he had ever had cause to feel before. He had always been different from everyone around him.

But at least before he had still been human.

That thought had a surge of emotion rising up from deep inside of him that he had no way to combat against, so he shoved it back down and glanced into the darkening sky outside of the taxi window, allowing the passing of city lights and calm pedestrians to put him back into an almost hypnotic type of trance. He couldn't deal with the buzzing thoughts or tumultuous emotions right now, so he chose to not think at all.

Nyanko sat curled up in Natsume's lap, still sleeping. It worried Natsume, but Hiiragi had said he would be fine. She said he had overstrained himself for Natsume's sake. It made him both happy and guilty all at once. He hadn't let go of the pig-cat since his fingers had first latched onto the spirit in the back yard of the Fujiwaras after Natori's unexpected and rather frightening arrival.

Natori. . .

Natori-san hadn't left Natsume's side until after he had apologized profusely. Natsume had waved him off, saying it was fine.

But his neck still burned slightly where the shikigami had touched his neck.

Natsume had never felt so much pain before in his life. Sure, he had never liked shikigami, especially after Matoba had used them to keep Natsume prisoner after kidnapping him. But even then, wrapped wrist to elbow in shikigami and spirit bindings, he had only felt a slight discomfort and a worrying amount of weakness and tiredness. It had never hurt before, and the effects had never lasted longer than the contact he had had with the spiritual paper.

It was terrifying, the new power that the shikigami seemed to hold over him, but he didn't understand why it was happening. Nyanko-sensei was sleeping, so he couldn't ask him. And Natori-san would burden himself with guilt if he knew how much his attack had really hurt and shaken Natsume.

So Natsume pretended that he was fine. He was good at pretending such things after all.

"Right at the next light, please." Natori's voice made Natsume jump, pulling him from his dark thoughts. The taxi driver turned obediently, and Natsume felt his weight shift slightly across the seat toward Natori as they rounded the corner.

Natori had been amazing, despite his attack on Natsume. Once he had come to realize that Natsume was himself and not some child-eating ayakashi, he had instantly transformed back into the shifty, capable exorcist Natsume had become friends with over time. He had bustled Natsume into the house, packed a small night bag for him, and called for a taxi. Still overwhelmed by everything, Natsume had gone along with it all, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to ask about how they would handle the Fujiwaras.

Who couldn't _see_ him anymore. Could they love him anymore, if he didn't technically exist to humans now?

Natori shook his shoulder, and Natsume jumped in shock. Natsume watched as one of Natori's cocky overly-flowery smiles began to form, just to drift into a very heavy frown a moment later. Without a word, Natori gestured toward the open door. They had arrived. Natsume pulled Nyanko-sensei to his body more securely and slid out of the car after Natori.

Natsume had been to Natori's apartment before, but every time he was struck by how plain it was. For a famous actor and a rather successful exorcist, Natori did not flaunt his money. His home was small, but cozy. Plain, but pleasant. As Natori opened the door and gestured for Natsume to enter, Natsume felt a sudden strange itch at the back of his head, causing him to pause cautiously.

He felt spooked for an unexplainable reason he could not identify. Something in him said it was dangerous. He should back away, stay away. But Natori looked tired and worried, so Natsume shrugged it off and took a step forward anyway.

The shock he got as he tried to enter the doorway was not pleasant at all, and sent him hissing to his knees. Nyanko-sensei stirred in his grip, but did not wake.

Natori pulled him up a moment later, pushing him away from the door and setting him gently against the hallway wall.

"Sorry, Natsume. I forgot. Give me a moment." Natori murmured hastily. He entered the apartment and came out a moment later with a small shikigami. Natsume looked at it uneasily, but not resisting as Natori gently lifted Natsume's hand and placed it on the small paper. Natsume tensed, waiting for pain. His eyes popped open a moment later when nothing happened. He looked up at Natori's grim face and felt instantly guilty. He had given himself away, and now his friend would be more aware than he needed to be of the pain and fear his shikigami had instilled after today's altercation.

"Can you push some of your spiritual energy into this so my protective barriers will let you into the apartment?" Natori asked patiently. Natsume nodded, and did as asked.

His power came more willingly to his summons than expected, and he felt a small breeze pick up around him and the light that had surrounded him since his change brightened for a moment before settling as Natsume released his power. The shikigami looked a little burnt around the edges, but still intact when he glanced down at it.

Natori whistled, but wandered back inside with the paper. Natsume felt like he should stand, but lacked the energy or motivation to move. An older man and his wife came out of one of the rooms and wandered past Natsume at a leisurely pace.

"What's a strange cat doing sleeping out in the hallway?" The wife giggled at her husband. He made a noncommittal humming noise back at her before answering.

"Maybe he's waiting for someone to bring him fish. I think I want fish for dinner, dear."

"You always want fish." She scoffed back at him lightly.

The two were soon out of sight, and Natsume felt tears burning at the corner of his eyes again. He closed his eyes to try and alleviate the pain that accompanied hours of crying, but he still felt the tears fall.

Strong arms picked him up moments later. Natsume didn't have the energy to fight them off, and instead rested his head against Natori's shoulder, grateful that at least one person could see him. He had always sympathized with the spirits who craved human interaction, but he hadn't realized quite how painful the truth of it really was until now. He felt like his life had crumpled around him and there was nowhere to seek shelter. Natori's presence and support made the storm seem less frightening, somehow.

After settling Natsume on the couch, Natori wandered off toward the kitchen. Natsume listened to his retreating steps, not bothering to open his eyes. He listened as Natori called a nearby shop and ordered in dinner for two. It was nice of him, and Natsume hadn't eaten since breakfast, but he didn't think he would be able to stomach dinner. The thought of food made him nauseous.

"Ah, hello, Mrs. Fujiwara?" Natsume's eyes popped open without his permission and he found himself turning to face Natori. Natori made and held eye contact with him from across the room.

"This is Natori Shuuichi, do you remember me? Yes, Natsume's friend. I am calling because I just so happened to run into Natsume today, and he seems to have tired himself out and fallen asleep. Its dark enough out that I didn't want to worry you, but I feel apprehensive sending him home alone. Do you mind if I keep him over for the night even though it's late notice? You are a saint, Touko-san. I will have him back to you tomorrow. Its no trouble, really. Yes, you too, have a wonderful night."

Natori set the phone down and made his way over to the couch. Natsume tracked his movement, his thoughts running a mile a minute. When Natori sank into the couch next to him with a sigh, Natsume tore his eyes away from the man to look at the floor in shame.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, sir." He whispered. He hadn't meant for his voice to come out so quiet but didn't know how to fix that right now, with so many worries and concerns flying about in his head. A hand settled gently on his head, ruffling his hair.

Natsume glared up at him with a scowl on instinct before he could even think about it, and in an instant, he felt himself calm considerably. He hadn't felt normal or much like himself at all today, and to fall back into old patterns helped push the stress from his shoulders.

"We will figure this out, kid." Natori-san said confidently. "I've got a few ideas. We will have you back at the Fujiwaras soon, just you wait and see."

Natsume didn't know that he believed that. It was too idealistic and perfect and Natsume had suffered too much to believe that life would just work out the way he wanted it to. But if Natsume had learned anything living with the Fujiwaras, it was that sometimes you could trust adults. And if he had learned anything about Natori in the time that he had come to know him, it was that Natori didn't say things he didn't believe.

So Natsume decided that he would trust in Natori's words. Even if a small voice in the back of his head said it was only going to hurt him to do so.

…

Matoba was not pleased.

He had made himself a nice little fantasy about how today would go and was not enthralled by the many shikigami he had found scattered about the yard of the Fujiwara house upon his arrival. No one had been home when he arrived, but it was obvious that an annoying, second-rate exorcist by the no-good name of Natori had been on the premises and stolen Matoba's prize.

Matoba didn't know everything that had happened at Natsume's current residence before his arrival, but based on the reports he had received, he had hoped that whatever new and frightening ayakashi the boy had meddled with this time would be the key to forcing the boy's hand and finally win him over for the Matoba clan.

The boy was immensely powerful. Unbelievably so. And since the delectable news of the existence of such a thing as a 'Book of Friends' had reached his ear, and in the possession of the very boy he had spent months attempting to capture and retain. . . Matoba was honest enough with himself to admit that he may have become a smidge obsessed. The things he could accomplish with that boy and his Book of Friends. He would be unstoppable.

Which is why he found it so frustrating that the boy was not here.

Never one to waste time, Matoba left the Fujiwara residence before he could be noticed and made his way back to the clan car that had brought him here. It wouldn't do to have rumors spread of his visit and set his prey on edge. Better to catch the boy by surprise another day when Natori wouldn't be so close at hand to help the child.

But _soon_ the boy and his book would belong to Matoba.

…

Natori heaved a sigh as he watched Natsume finally succumb to sleep. Natsume had curled into a protective ball around that dumb pig-cat of his, taking up only a small portion of the couch. It probably wasn't the most comfortable position he could have chosen, but Natori didn't dare attempt to move the kid considering how high-strung Natsume had been since Natori had found him.

Which was mostly his fault.

Natori prided himself on being a good exorcist. The kind that didn't do harm to the humans in the vicinity. He didn't care so much about not hurting the yokai, admittedly, but he felt he had a much larger moral compass than clans like Matoba's, who reveled in the blood they spilled and cared little for the lives of any but their contractors.

Natori was not like them. He cherished life. But he had hurt Natsume today. The screams of pain echoed in his head, and he was vividly aware of the flinches Natsume had attempted to subdue. He had seen how Natsume had clutched at his neck absently like it hurt.

It probably did. Natori hadn't held back in his attack, and the shikigami he had held to the boy's neck was one of the strongest offensive charms he knew. Strong ayakashi, large monstrous brutes had fallen due to the pain of that charm.

He had used it on kind, selfless Natsume.

Natsume, who was now an ayakashi, a yokai, a spirit, a thing he had dedicated his life to destroying, and sealing, and hating.

Natori knew that things would not be the same as they had been before. He could not treat Natsume as he had treated all the other yokai the man had come across before. He would have to change. He would have to do better, be better. Natsume had helped him see some of the good in ayakashi before. Hopefully the boy would be able to help him some more.

With that in mind, Natori thought it was best he found his own way to help Natsume. He had told Natsume that everything would be okay, and he meant it. He would exhaust all his resources to help the boy return to the Fujiwaras. Natsume was happy with them in his life, and Natori refused to see Natsume lose anything that brought him happiness.

Natori had the feeling it was going to be a long night.

…

Nyanko woke to the delectable smell of bacon and a mouth already dripping with saliva. He was starving! And, he discovered as he wobbled to his cat-pig paws, very tired. His spiritual core hadn't completely recharged itself from the strain he placed on it by overusing it to repel his curse. But, glancing up at the sleeping child that was loosely curled around him on the couch, he figured that just this once such a strain was fine.

The brat Natsume looked mostly peaceful in sleep. If it weren't for the unhappy frown half-formed on his face and the crease between his brows, Nyanko would be satisfied. He would deal with the boy _after_ breakfast.

Taking in his surroundings for the first time, Nyanko realized they were not at the Fujiwaras' house. A glance at a nearby cluttered desk and a whiff of stinky air alerted Nyanko to the fact that they were in the home of an exorcist.

Nyanko only knew of one exorcist who lived in such a humble and unassuming home.

Natori. The exorcist who knew about the Book of Friends. A friend of Natsume's, but a threat Nyanko thought not worth the risk as such a dangerous acquaintance. He had tried to keep Natsume away from the man but had failed when Natsume's kind nature got involved.

The annoying brat just liked to make work for poor, dear Nyanko-sensei.

Nyanko supposed the stinky exorcist had his uses. He was a good deterrent against Matoba and other, stinkier, exorcists. His shikigami were even useful when they weren't targeted at Nyanko. The man could be helpful in human places where Nyanko lacked the understanding to help and the ability to assist his young charge. Nyanko would rather be stuck forever in the stupid cat-pig form than admit it to the smelly exorcist, though.

Natsume stirred, and Nyanko pressed himself reassuringly against the boy's side as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sleepy gold sparkled and shimmered under the morning light from the window. Under the sun's rays, Nyanko could _almost_ ignore the powerful glow around the boy. The squiggly lines that began dancing across his skin was another matter.

"Good morning!" Natori's tired but suspiciously chipper voice rang out from behind them, making both Natsume and Nyanko jump in surprise. Nyanko was gleeful to discover that when he turned to face the man, he also came face to face with a heavenly arrangement of breakfast food. He darted over and onto the table fast enough he didn't even register the steps that got him there. Natsume came over at a much more sedate pace, but when Nyanko stopped eating long enough to come up for air, he was glad to see the boy was eating at least a little bit.

Natori didn't press for conversation, contenting himself to watch the two eat over his own plate. Nyanko kept an eye on the man out of habit. The exorcist was fidgeting every few minutes, before he would catch himself and still. The lizard that used the man as a playground wiggled onto his face and made leisurely loops around the man's eyes. It accentuated how tired he looked. Nyanko didn't think the man had slept at all last night.

"I think I may have come up with a solution for you, Natsume," Natori said at last, and only after Natsume had stopped eating. "At least, a temporary fix while we work on something more permanent."

Nyanko felt warm as he watched Natsume perk up and sit straighter in his chair. He looked at Natori expectantly, but didn't make a sound. Natori stood and made his way over to the cluttered desk and picked up a light green jacket. Bringing it over, he presented it to Natsume. Natsume looked unimpressed, but Nyanko appraised the jacket with the eyes of a skilled yokai. He could vaguely sense a sort of power over the jacket that reminded him of Natori's shikigami, but that made no sense. What could a jacket do to help Natsume? Natsume seemed about ready to voice the same question when Natori began speaking again.

"The biggest problem right now is that no one can see or hear you." Natori proved the ineptitude of all exorcists by stating the obvious. Nyanko wanted to jump in with a cutting insult but recognized that Natsume needed answers more than Nyanko needed entertainment. He shifted into a more comfortable position to watch the humans and was rewarded when Natori opened the jacket and displayed its insides. Runes and spells were written in small but powerful layers across the inner jacket lining.

"It took a few hours to figure it out, but I believe this configuration of spell work should allow you to be not only visible to humans, but also cause them to see only an illusion of how you looked. . . before."

Natsume looked down at his hands for a moment, his expression a blank mask even Nyanko had a hard time reading, before he reached up and with slightly shaking fingers grasped the jacket in a death grip. The unmarked skin on his hands turned a stark white from the fierce grip. With slow and hesitant movements, Natsume pulled the jacket on. The jacket was too large and covered all but the tips of Natsume's fingers. Natsume didn't seem to mind, simply hiking the jacket up to his elbows.

Nyanko was unimpressed.

"He looks the same." Natsume stared down at his marked hands, a small frown slowly growing on his face as he bleakly came to the same conclusion.

There was a sharp knock at the door that effectively kept Natori from responding to the desolate faces of his two guests. Before he could even reach his front door, the nosy old woman who lived next door invited herself in.

"Pardon me, Shuichi-kun, I need to borrow your—Oh, hello, Natsume-kun! Long time no see! Sorry to intrude, I'm just here to borrow Natori's sesame." The old woman seemed oblivious to the shocked silence that had come over the room. She stole into the kitchen with practiced ease, grabbed the sesame and let herself out with a short salutation.

At the quiet snick of the door closing, Natsume came out of his daze and collapsed to the ground in a heap. Nyanko was at his side instantly, settling himself into the boy's lap in a show of support. The brat's breath hitched, but Nyanko was thankful to see that no tears fell.

"Thank you, Natori." Natsume murmured, clasping onto Nyanko. "Thank you so much."

Natori smiled, crouching down to meet Natsume's eyes at the same level.

"It's time to get you home."


	4. Chapter 4

Natsume felt drained.

When Natori had first suggested taking a bus back to the Fujiwaras rather than a taxi, Natsume had agreed with a guilty relief that it would give him more time to prepare himself to see them again. Even with the jacket Natori had given him, the part of Natsume that always assumed the worst was working overtime and the ever-growing list of possible ways everything could go wrong had Natsume feeling nauseous and worn.

Granted, it could also be the jacket.

Nyanko-sensei had not liked it. Natsume hadn't understood much of the spirit's complaints, only getting the gist of some worry about how it would interfere with the flow of spirit energy through his body and how restrictions on it could hurt Natsume. Because Natsume was a god now, and apparently spirit energy was tied to his very existence. Natsume thought it was something better left in an abandoned recess in the corner of his mind with the rest of the things he wasn't thinking about until much later.

"How are you holding up, kid?" Natori asked, lightly nudging Natsume's arm to get his attention. Natsume glances at him, then glances away just as quickly when the lizard on Natori's face seems to wiggle more than normal under his gaze. Natsume felt like it had been trying to get his attention all morning and was frankly a little terrified since he didn't know what to do about it. Natori at least, seemed to be oblivious, and Nyanko-sensei…well, Nyanko-sensei was Nyanko-sensei. If it didn't involve food, he didn't care.

"I'm fine." Natsume mumbled to appease Natori. Natori pursed his lips and stopped walking. It surprised Natsume enough that he reflexively mirrored the exorcist, pausing in the middle of the quiet road. A peaceful breeze ruffled the forest leaves, a gentle sound Natsume had come to love over the many years running through the forests. But the oppressive agitation he could feel rolling off Natori set him on edge and he couldn't make eye contact. His body stiffened in horror as he caught the wiggling names on his hands shifting in a fast, agitated tempo, easily expressing what he had learned over years to keep hidden from his face.

"Natsume." His name itself is like an accusation when Natori's voice carries so much disappointment. "I know you're used to keeping things to yourself, but can't you see that this situation is too serious for you to be bottling everything up and dealing with it yourself?"

"Really, Natori-san, I am fine." The words flow from his mouth more from habit than intent, Natsume's thoughts still stuck on the invasion of privacy that comes with having hundreds of ayakashi names broadcasting his feelings to anyone who bothers to look at him.

To those few who can see him. The exorcist manipulators like Matoba who would use such a weakness to hurt Natsume. The overprotective family and friends who would try to make him _talk_ about how he feels. The ones who care enough that it hurts Natsume to see them worry over him, which is why even now living in a place where he has more people than he ever thought possible who care for him, where he finally has a family, and a home, and feels truly safe for the first time he can remember, Natsume will still keep up his masks. Because it is better that he suffers alone so that the precious people in his life who make him happier than ever before can stay happy and be the brightness and light in Natsume's life. He _has_ to protect that—

"Natsume!" Natsume jumps as Natori clasps onto his shoulders, shaking him roughly, but with obvious care and concern. "Are you even listening? Don't you understand the danger?"

"…" Natsume doesn't know what he needs to say to make Natori feel better.

"You are an extremely young spirit god, an extremely _powerful_ spirit with no control over your powers, who is wearing a jacket loaded with experimental spell work that is affecting said uncontrolled powers in as yet, untested and untried ways. We don't know if that jacket will have any negative effects on you. That's not even including the emotional stress you must be under or all the other unknown factors involved because you have somehow become the carrier of a certain powerful artefact that should never have even existed. Anything that goes wrong will not be a little blip we can just cover up. Your life could very well be in danger if we do not handle this situation as delicately as possible."

Natori paused to make sure Natsume was grasping the point he was trying to make. Natsume's eyes widened slightly as the truth settled in and a pit formed in the bottom of Natsume's stomach.

"Am I putting the Fujiwaras in danger by going back?" His voice is hoarse with the weight of unsaid worries that hang over Natsume's head.

Natori's arms are suddenly around Natsume, and it takes him a moment to realize that the reason he is shaking is because Natori's body is moving with silent laughter. Natori's face is softer than Natsume has ever seen it when he pulls back to make eye contact with Natsume.

"You are too good for this world, Natsume, worrying for others where the rest of us would worry about ourselves."

Natsume frowns. He worries about himself plenty. He just has more important people to worry about first. He opens his mouth to explain this when it happens.

Natori's hand comes up to smooth Natsume's hair away from his eyes, stopping to rest on his cheek in an unusual and paternal expression of affection. And in the moment of extended contact, the gecko that has been living on Natori's skin for year skitters from Natori's hand onto Natsume's face. Natsume can't see it happening, but he sees the way Natori's eyes grow wide and he can feel _something_ entering his body.

' _Natsume-sama,'_ a small high-pitched voice whispers in his head, ' _I, Nanakatamori, pledge myself to thy service and give you my name.'_

Something in Natsume responds instinctively to the formal words and he finds himself silently pledging the ayakashi his protection. He feels the ayakashi's pleasure as a wiggle on his face as well as a bright emotion in his head before it fades and the small gecko blends into the rest of the markings on his skin, transforming into its own unique squiggle.

Natsume comes back to himself in a rush and feels his knees wobble beneath him. Nyanko-sensei is there in a moment, his fox form warm and secure against Natsume's back.

"You broke the exorcist, brat," Nyanko-sensei says fondly. A smug smile tugs at the spirit's large mouth and Natsume shakily tries to return the well-meant joke with a smile. It comes out as more of a grimace, but Natsume was just glad he could get his mouth to move at all at this point. He felt exhausted. Natori had yet to move, still frozen in shock from when he had lost his persistent spirit companion after so many years. A complicated mix of emotions played across his face, and Natsume was sure the man was surprised by how much he would miss what had become a constant in his life, even if he had always claimed he wanted to get rid of the small gecko.

In a way, Nanakatamori had probably become a part of him and he had grown used to her spiritual presence. Natsume could feel it like a light cloud of encouragement in the back of his consciousness if he focused hard enough, and he would imagine it would feel like losing a piece of you for something like that to simply vanish. After all, the gecko had been one of the motivating factors that led to Natori becoming an exorcist. How would losing that reminder of his motivation for exorcising affect him?

"Natori?" Natsume asked hesitantly, not wanting to bug the man, but feeling very unsettled by the man's unmoving eyes on his face.

"You . . ."

"Me . . . ?"

"You are simply astonishing, Natsume." Natori seems to bounce back into his usual persona from one blink of the eye to another. "But back on topic. The Fujiwaras will be fine Natsume, its _you_ we should be worried about. If even my little stalker of an ayakashi is attracted to you, what will happen with all the bigger ones? Hey, you, worthless pig-cat! How do I know you'll take care of him properly?"

Nyanko-sensei bristles, his raised hairs tickling the skin on Natsume's neck.

"Why you stinky exorcist!"

Natsume tunes the two of them out as he recognizes they are falling into an old, familiar banter. It won't solve any of Natsume's problems, but it will help two people he cares about release a bit of the stress and tension from their bodies. Not wanting to get involved, he quietly moves off to the side, and takes a deep breath of air.

He should worry about what just happened, but if Nyanko-sensei and Natori were going to ignore it, he felt rather justified in simply pretending it hadn't happened. Not that he entirely knew _what_ had happened. He didn't want to confirm any of his suspicions right now though.

His body ached, and on an instinct, he shed the coat Natori had labored so hard on for him. He placed it carefully on a nearby rock and stepped a little farther into the shade of the forest and away from the human-made path.

The energy he felt almost immediately was exhilarating.

The jacket was definitely having a negative impact on his spiritual energy levels, and possibly even his physical health. He felt weightless and full all at once. Everything seemed louder, brighter; the air tasted cleaner and there was a larger mixture of smells pleasantly swirling through the air.

Maybe this god-thing wasn't _all_ bad.

"Help!" A small croak caught Natsume's attention, and he turned naturally to face the direction it had come from. Looking behind him, he assured himself that Natori and Nyanko-sensei were too busy to notice if he disappeared for a short moment. With a bracing breath, Natsume plunged into the forest, ears straining to hear that call of distress.

It didn't take long to come across the source of the cries. Splayed out on the forest floor was a very familiar little kappa. Its skin was more chapped and dry than usual, and Natsume's heart reached out to the little spirit he had had to rescue from self-harm so many times.

"What are you doing so far from the creek again, Kappa?" he asks gently as he kneels down next to his friend. The kappa's eyes open as it lets out a chirp of excitement at hearing Natsume's voice.

"Natsume-san!" Its eyes widen upon seeing Natsume's changed body for the first time. "Natsume- _sama_! Forgive me for my disrespect, you have once again awed this humble spirit with your great show of kindness to a simple water spirit like me."

Natsume is fairly used to the kappa's overly formal address after being saved from drying out, but this is more excessive than normal, even for his small friend. He opens his mouth to assure the spirit that such formal address is unnecessary when the kappa beats him to it. Grasping his hand with its own, the spirit barges on.

"Natsume-sama, I, Rerikokaya, pledge my service and present my name for your wherewithal." An inky black tendril of energy seeps from the kappa's hand and into Natsume's, drawing itself into a unique name on his skin.

"I, Natsume, accept your name and pledge my protection." Natsume's body says as a power wells up from within him. When the presence recedes, he jolts back from the kappa with an exclamation of surprise. The kappa seems to find it funny and lets out a titter. The kappa no longer appears dehydrated, but softly moist and full of energy.

"Truly, Natsume-sama is a powerful god and a merciful one." He says as he admires his skin. "No small god could perform such magic with so little effort. I am further in your debt. My power may not add to your energy much, but it will protect you from getting wet in small rain showers and give you simple control over water. Please call on me for anything." With that the kappa runs off, back towards the creek he should have stayed in to begin with.

Natsume's hands shake as he slowly makes his way back to the path where he had left Natori and Nyanko-sensei. Whether he wanted to confirm it or not, he had unwittingly gotten an answer about what happened when spirits pledged themselves to him. Just as Reiko-san had collected names for her book, it appeared that Natsume also collected names in forms of pledges to his service.

But he had no control over whether or not the spirits pledged themselves to him.

Any spirit with a desire to could force their names onto his skin and carve a feeling of responsibility into his soul. He could feel the kappa now, even at a distance, and could sense, if he focused, that it had safely reached its home in the creek. He felt the need to protect it. And like his discovery had opened a gateway, a sea of sensations and vague spiritual impressions assaulted him. He did not know the spirits, but he could sense at the very least the well-being of all the yokai whose names he possessed. He could feel a need, a craving, to protect them.

It frightened him that he had so little control over his own emotions and urges.

Would his new connection to the names even allow him to return them to their rightful owners?


	5. Chapter 5

Nyanko was _livid_.

That brat had dared to sneak away on his own in the middle of the forest without _him_? He could understand not wanting to bring the stinky prejudiced exorcist along, but to leave his dear Nyanko-sensei behind?

How dare the brat. Nyanko would make Natsume buy him lots of manjuu to make up for all the stress that he put poor, selfless Nyanko through.

Just as soon as he could find him. Nyanko hadn't realized how much the brat's scent had changed until he had to actually search for it on the air. Natsume had always had a unique scent to him. It hinted at loneliness, but reminded him of flowers and sunny days, all overlaid with the sweet edge of spiritual power. With his induction into the world of spirits as a new god, the sweetness of his power had become almost too sweet but was now overshadowed by the smells and scents of all the names that littered the boy's skin. His scent was still there, but it had been masked and hidden under a potent layer of other scents that Nyanko was not familiar with. They blended into the natural smells of the forest and made Natsume himself nearly untraceable.

And the brat had left the coat that the exorcist had given him, which would have made tracking him easier. Nyanko growled and stood on his haunches over the coat. He wanted to shred the useless piece of fabric but knew that Natsume needed it in order to return to the Fujiwaras.

And if Natsume needed anything, it was the Fujiwaras.

"Natsume!" Natori's sudden yell made Nyanko jolt three feet into the air in surprise. Hiiragi, who had decided to become visible for whatever reason, shook with silent laughter. Nyanko glared at her before rounding on the stupid exorcist.

"Shut up, idiot!" Nyanko growled. Nyanko knew better than most just how much danger Natsume was in on a daily basis. Most spirits in this forest knew of Natsume Reiko. Most were friendly with her grandson, but not all of them had good intentions.

Now, being the new vessel for the names of the spirits who had once resided in the Book of Friends, Natsume's value had only gone up. A book was just a possession. It could do nothing besides offer leverage against the spirits entrapped by its presence. But for the names to be held within a living vessel. . . The ways that Natsume could use the names had increased exponentially. The ways that another spirit, or worse, and exorcist, could take advantage of Natsume now that he was a vessel for so many spirits. . .

It was better not to dwell on such things and keep Natsume safe, so it never became an issue. And part of that meant dealing with an oblivious exorcist.

"Natsume has many friends among the spirits, but not every spirit wants to be _friends_ with him. Now that he is the vessel for the names of many spirits, they will only target him more. And your screaming will let them know exactly where to find him!"

That shut Natori up like a clam. Nyanko could see the moment that the exorcist seemed to come to the same realization that Nyanko had. His face became whiter than Nyanko had ever seen it, and before Nyanko could process it, the exorcist had scooped him up and dove into the foliage.

"Okay, you useless pig-cat, if there were ever a moment that Natsume needed you to actually act like the guard you claim to be, now would be a great time. Where is he?" Natori held Nyanko out in front of him like some sort of homing beacon. Nyanko could feel himself growing impatient, especially as Hiiragi chose that moment to glide up next to him and stare at him expectantly.

Were the two of them truly this useless?

"Reikoooo. . ." The deep, slithery hiss barely reached Nyanko's sensitive ears, and made him stiffen in horror. The voice was distant, far off in the opposite direction from where they were headed.

"Reikoooo I neeeed. . . I need to feeeed. Giiive me your hooopelessneeeessssss."

"Turn around!" Nyanko yelled. A distant yelp and a cry of pain sound in the deceptively peaceful looking forest. "Darn you, stinky exorcist! TURN AROUND!" Natori freezes, but its not fast enough for Nyanko. He knows he isn't quite ready to be in his spirit form for an extended period of time without repercussions, but now isn't a time to worry about that. In a flash of bright spirit light, he is off, charging through the forest and towards his boy. _His_. Any spirit who doesn't get that will feel Nyanko's wrath.

The sight that greets Nyanko is an unfortunately familiar sight. A giant black blob of a spirit with seven eyes and at least as many arms was hunched menacingly over the fallen and dazed form of Nyanko's innocent charge. With so many limbs, the spirit had the upper hand, holding each of Natsume's arms and legs in several strategic positions. Even if Natsume weren't dazed, he would be incapable of moving.

Nyanko saw red when he saw the spirit overpowering his Natsume. Natsume was a very spirit-sensitive person. It wasn't uncommon for the boy to have visions the first few times he came in contact with a new spirit, especially when they were being so expressive with strong emotions. Even after the better and kinder visions, Natsume would always be pensive and distant for a day or two, reflecting on the things he learned and the feelings he had been exposed to against his choice. And what this spirit would have to show the boy could be in no way described as _good_.

Without another thought, Nyanko pounced. The spirit grappled back. Its multiple limbs scrabbled and pulled painfully at Nyanko's fur, but he did not let it distract him, instead tightening the bite he had on the spirit's neck. The struggle between the two of them was physically exhausting, and after a few minutes of struggling with no signs of surrender from the spirit beneath him, Nyanko felt his spirit straining painfully. He would not last much longer, and if he changed back now, Natsume would be left helpless and at the mercy of this filthy spirit.

As if sensing Nyanko's plight, Hiiragi was suddenly there, sword flashing. It wasn't a moment too soon, as Nyanko felt his grip on the spirit slacken right before his energy gave out and he found himself sprawled on the ground in pig-cat form. He lay there, awake but without the energy to move as the fierce battle raged on above him.

Shaking hands gently lifted Nyanko into a familiar, tight embrace. Natsume still looked a little shaken, but at least he was up and moving. Another shriek drew Nyanko's gaze back to the fight. Hiiragi was pushing the beast back with merciless attacks. A few scant feet away Natori was putting the finishing touches on a rune circle. The spells glowed subtly as the many-armed spirit backed into it, and moments later the spirit had been sucked into a small jar the exorcist must have had hidden on his person without Nyanko's knowledge.

Sneaky exorcists with their sneaky tricks.

"Natsume, are you all right?" Natori was on them as soon as he had confirmed the seal was on the jar properly. Now that the adrenaline was leaving his body, Nyanko realized that Natsume was shaking fiercely.

". . ." Natsume's face was a portrait of complex emotions fighting each other for a place on his face. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he looked for the words to express himself.

"I feel bad."

Nyanko scoffed. "Brat, we have talked about having misguided feelings for spirits who _attack_ you with wicked—" Nyanko stopped mid-rant when Natsume started shaking his head.

"Not like that, well, not _just_ like that. Part of me is. . . _pleased_ that the spirit is trapped. Like a part of me sees it as a justified punishment for attacking me, but at the same time, I could feel that it was just lonely and hurting and didn't know how to handle it, and I felt like it was my responsibility to help it but I couldn't help it and ended up getting it _trapped_ because I'm not _good enough_ or _powerful enough_ to do anything to help it."

It was a testament to just how distraught Natsume still was about the changes from the last two days when he burst into tears and buried his face into Nyanko's back at the abnormal admission. Nyanko felt like he should be worried, but a bigger part of him that cared deeply for Natsume could only feel an immense amount of relief that Natsume was _finally_ starting to confide in people and express his emotions.

It was also distressing to see how deep of an effect Natsume's new responsibilities were having on him. Not that Nyanko thought they were going to change who Natsume was as a person. Natsume had always been a reckless boy with too much spirit power, who attracted attention and bad omens like a piece of Velcro and with a too big heart that got him attached to every single spirit he came across with any sort of sob story and even a few without. The boy was too pure and cared too much for too little. Being made into a spirit god would not change that, only enhance it. All of Natsume's feelings would grow and deepen, and the more carnal part of his new spirit nature would wreak havoc for a while since it would likely be the first time Natsume would ever feel any form of self-preservation in his life.

But that was an important and even healthy change. Nyanko thought it always had been, but now he would finally have leverage to make Natsume recognize it. Natsume wouldn't protect himself just for himself, Nyanko had tried that argument multiple times to as many failures. But if Nyanko reminded Natsume that his life was now tied to the lives of all the names he bore, perhaps the boy would finally try to protect his own life, if only to protect the lives of all the names he was now more personally connected with. There was no book for Natsume to get hurt protecting. There was only Natsume's body. Who knew what would happen if Natsume were to sustain injury now?

The thought sent a cold shiver of dread down Nyanko's spine, and he promised himself he would see Natsume protected so that such a question never need find an answer.

He would die before he saw Natsume hurt. Natsume was _his._

Nyanko felt the power leave him before he could properly protect against it, and as he watched, his eyes widened. The sliver of his power twined around Natsume's neck and manifested in a thick bold script that did not move, but brazenly declared its presence. It was then that Nyanko realized the truly dangerous state Natsume was in.

Innocent, loving Natsume, who won the love and devotion of bitter old spirits like Nyanko without trying, who's very being had become a vessel for the safekeeping of the names of those he cared for.

Inevitably, Nyanko thought, the name of every ayakashi Natsume cared for that shared that sentiment would end up tied to him. Without his conscious assent, simply a heart-felt care to pledge himself to this boy, Nyanko had given his name. By the slight dilating of Natsume's eyes, Nyanko knew that Natsume had felt it. But Natsume didn't say a word, simply holding tightly to Nyanko as Natori prodded and poked him into standing.

He didn't say a word as they returned to the road, nor when Natori bundled him up in the spelled jacket, even as Nyanko felt Natsume sag in exhaustion under its influence. He didn't say a word as Hiiragi gently wiped at the tear trails down his cheeks or when Natori began to gently lead him on the path back towards the Fujiwara home.

He only broke the silence once Natori had hassled Hiiragi into a boisterous conversation to try and lighten the mood.

"I'm sorry, Nyanko-sensei."

The whisper was so quiet it was nearly lost on the wind. Nyanko couldn't help but feel horror form in the pit of his stomach. What was the boy blaming himself for now?

…

He had stolen Nyanko's name.

It sat on his neck like a weight, different from the other names. Like the kappa and Natori's small lizard, it had felt like a mutually offered pledge of service, but stronger somehow. He had heard Nyanko's voice, a determined spike of love that backed a resolve to die protecting Natsume. Something he in turn would do for Nyanko. And like a greedy monster, his body had tied that commitment to himself, forcefully tying Nyanko to him.

Natsume had always wondered when Nyanko would leave, like all the rest of the caring people in his life had, but he hadn't expected that in his own fear of losing Nyanko he would enslave the spirit to stay by his side. Yet instead of displaying a righteous anger or attacking Natsume, Nyanko had instead nuzzled into his arms and dozed off after a time. His snores were an old familiar sound that calmed Natsume.

The name circling his neck felt pleasantly warm to the touch.

Natsume stumbled over a small rock his eyes hadn't been able to focus on in his exhaustion. The jacket, he had confirmed, was definitely sapping spiritual energy. As soon as Natori had moved his stiff arms back into the jacket, he had felt the drain. It was only mid-afternoon, and he was already on the edge of collapse. His vision was spinning and blacking out periodically, and he kept tripping over his own feet as well as any obstacles in his path.

"You okay there, Natsume?" Natori's worried face was suddenly inches from his. Natsume flinched on instinct, tripping backwards but unable to catch himself without dropping Nyanko-sensei. Natori's hands were there in an instant, supporting him and keeping him from falling completely. With so little energy left, Natsume let himself be led to a small boulder on the side of the road without complaint. He hadn't realized just how tired he was until he didn't have to try and hold himself up.

"It's the jacket, isn't it?" Hiiragi asked, eyes glaring into Natsume's. He could hear her quiet accusation for not mentioning it was a problem before. Natsume sensed that if she were not already pledged in some sense to Natori, he would have her name tainting his skin as well.

"Is that true?" Natori's voice is biting and anxious. The voice of a worried big brother who had unwittingly put a younger sibling in danger. Natsume sighed but faced with the truth he couldn't turn back. A resolution needed to be found today, before they reached the Fujiwaras, or he would worry them needlessly.

"The jacket is eating my spiritual energy. I'm exhausted." Natsume admitted.

"Its only been half a day!" Natori countered. Natsume nodded glumly.

"Natori, I can't keep this on much longer. I'll collapse."

". . ."

". . ."

"You won't be able to hide this from the Fujiwaras if the jacket is affecting you so poorly already. You wouldn't even be able to make it through a whole school day."

"Maybe we just need to make a few adjustments to it. If we just look into it for a few more days—"

"You have school tomorrow. The Fujiwara's are expecting you home any time now." Natsume winced.

"But the Fujiwaras—"

"Will worry either way. _More_ if you just disappear." Natori grabbed onto both of Natsume's shoulders, forcing eye contact. "Natsume, I know you don't want to worry them. I know that you are scared of how they will react, but they are good people. They will understand. They will still love you. If anything, I think letting them know will show them how much you care about them. They won't be scared of you or think you're a monster. They will be thankful that you told them, that you trusted them enough to tell them."

". . ."

"Do you really think that poorly of them that you think they would turn you away?"

"No!" The denial bursts from Natsume loud and passionate enough to startle Nyanko-sensei into wakefulness. Still drowsy and drained from the battle earlier, the pig-cat stays silent for once, as if he can sense the heavy atmosphere and the importance of the conversation taking place above him.

"If you think that, then what is holding you back?" Natori asks, more patience in his voice than Natsume has heard before.

"I don't want them to worry."

"That's an excuse. You know it; I know it. What's the real reason?"

". . ."

Nyanko nudged at Natsume's chest in encouragement when he didn't speak for several minutes.

"If they accept me, and keep me, will I put them in danger? Will being connected to me and aware of the spirits put their lives at risk? Will they get hurt because of me?"

"Oh, Natsume," Natori reaches forward and pulls the boy into his arms. Natsume let himself enjoy the embrace.

"They are still spirit blind. They won't be in any more danger than normal, brat," Nyanko states huffily, wiggling out from between the two of them, aggravated at being squished up against the exorcist. "Besides, you have the marvelous me to protect them for you."

"And I can put up extra protections if you want."

". . ." Natsume feels himself calming, reluctant though he is to allow himself to be talked into sharing his darkest secret with the Fujiwaras. "Would the little spirits who still need my help be able to get in?"

Nyanko huffed. "The brat will be fine," Was his assessment as he started waddling up the road. "I'm hungry and can smell Touko-san's cooking. Hurry up." He grouched back at them when no one followed immediately.

Natsume realized that with his heightened senses, he too could smell the delicious food drifting on the wind from the path ahead of them. His stomach growled, and his mouth watered.

Even if he was terrified of facing the Fujiwaras, his body was screaming for food.

"Come on, kid," Natori patted him on the shoulder once he had stood up from his crouch. "Let's get you back home."

Natsume couldn't find it in himself to look for a good reason to say no.

…

Touko heard the pounding of small heavy feet coming up the drive and knew that Natsume had returned. She would recognize that strange cat's overexcited gait anywhere. Having missed their boy, Touko quickly washed her hands off at the sink before making her way towards the front door. Shigeru looked up from his place on the couch with a smile. Both had agreed on several different occasions that Natsume brought a light and life to their house that had been missing for years. Having him gone even for a night was always hard on them. Even if he went out and enjoyed himself with friends, they were always glad to have him back home again afterwards.

"If worse comes to worse, Natsume, you know you are always welcome to stay with me."

Natori's hushed words give Touko pause just as she is about to open the door. She feels bad for eavesdropping, but she finds that in her concern at hearing such words, she doesn't much care.

"Thank you." Takashi's words are tired and soft.

"Oi, stop delaying. I'm hungry." A vaguely familiar voice brings Touko out of her musings, and she steps back quickly to appear to be just arriving at the door. She is not a moment too soon, as the door suddenly opens with a fierce determination and she finds herself face to face with her precious Takashi.

He looks tired and sick. It's the first thing that pops into her head, and her hands move to grip his face without her permission.

"Takashi! Are you all right?" Natsume seems to freeze under her hands for a moment, something she had thought they had worked out months ago. He hadn't frozen or flinched back from her or Shigeru since those first few months after he got out of the hospital. He was still jumpy, Touko had come to understand that was a part of the boy that would likely never change, but he had started to respond to her touches with relaxed shoulders and gentle smiles.

The rigid shoulders and brittle smile were something she had thought they had gotten rid of. She found herself disappointed that they were back.

"I'm fine, Touko-san." Natsume's soft voice assured her. That at least, was still as soft and kind as always, if a bit more shaken and nervous than she expected. "But. . ." He trailed off and she watched him expectantly, trying to show only love and patient acceptance on her face. To try and show this dear boy she cared and that he could say anything. A hand landed on Takashi's shoulder, startling both Touko and Takashi, and reminding them they were not alone. Shuuichi Natori, handsome as ever stood to the side, an encouraging look on his face directed specifically at Takashi.

"C-can I talk with you and Shigeru-san about something?" Natsume asked in a tiny, uncertain voice. "It's important." Touko smiled.

"Of course!" She pulled the two boys inside the house, closing the door behind them. "I just finished the food, so how about we sit down and talk about it over some nice, hot dinner?" She didn't give either of the boys time to argue, ushering them into the kitchen and giving Shigeru a look.

Like the good husband he was, he understood enough to know that something serious was up, and that he was to be the distraction while Touko got the situation set up just how she liked it. Shigeru had learned it was better to give her what she wanted and go with the flow.

Takashi and Shuuichi sat obediently. Shuuichi fell easily into conversation with Shigeru, even if Takashi sat a little stiffly and seemed mostly to be lost in thought rather than participating. His cat, Touko noted with amusement, had taken up residence at Takashi's feet. Not an unusual thing in and of itself, Touko found it stranger that the cat was rubbing itself up against Takashi as if attempting to sooth him, rather than the more usual loud meows and harsh pats the cat normally issued trying to get attention for food.

Touko set the table quickly, placing the food and taking her own seat next to her husband. Shigeru, Touko and the endlessly-hungry cat all dug into the food, but Touko was dismayed to find that Shuuichi was only half-heartedly talking bites of his food, not enjoying any of it, and Takashi hadn't even picked up his utensil.

Well, that just would _not_ do.

"So, Takashi," she said cheerfully, watching in dismay as the boy jumped and stared at her like a deer in the headlights. "You said you had something you wanted to talk with us about?" Touko watched as Takashi fiddled with the sleeves of the overlarge jacket he was wearing. She hadn't managed to talk him into taking it off when she ushered the two boys inside, and now she watched what appeared to be a new nervous tick as he picked at a thread on the jacket cuff.

"Um, yeah. . ." Takashi ducked his head after a quick, desperate glance Shuuichi's way. The table was silent as everyone waited on Takashi. Even the cat had stopped shoveling food into its mouth from the dish Touko had given it.

"Whatever it is, you can say it, Takashi. This is your home." Shigeru said encouragingly. This, Touko thought with pride, was one of the reasons she loved this man so much. "We will love you no matter what it is you have to say." Touko nodded her head in determined agreement. She smiled as she watched Takashi relax his posture slightly under the admission of the love they held for him. They didn't say it as often as they should, but they had tried to show it in ways that they knew Takashi would not reject after years of abusive homes. They showed it so that when they did say it, like now, he would be able to believe their words.

Takashi took in a breath as they watched and picked up his cat. Touko didn't normally like having it at the table, but she didn't complain, sensing the cat was providing a calming presence for her dear boy.

"Um, so. . . I guess you could say that ever since I was little I have been a little different. I could see things that no one else could see. I guess you would call them ayakashi, or yokai. Spirits." He blurted it out in a rush, almost too fast for them to understand. But Touko heard it all the same.

The table was silent. It stretched out and out, thick and impenetrable. No one knew what to say, or who should start. Touko clutched at Shigeru's hand under the table, unsure of the words she needed to say what she was feeling. Worried she would upset the precious boy silently panicking at his thoughtlessly fast and abrupt admission.

"That time you made a mess of the house, it wasn't actually you, was it." Its not a question, more of a statement as Shigeru makes eye contact with their foster son. Touko remembers the instance vaguely, but senses the question is important. Takashi shakes his head.

"It was a spirit." He mumbles quietly. "I couldn't stop it from making a mess before I got it to leave the house." Shuuichi, Touko notes, has perked up at this information and playfully jabs at Takashi.

"What's this? Exorcising spirits without me?" He asks in a mock-offended tone. Takashi instantly lights up in indignation, seeming to forget Shigeru and Touko are even there for a moment.

"I don't need you for everything! Besides, you were away at a shoot!"

"And where was your worthless watchdog when this went down then, eh?"

"Oi! I take offense to that! How dare you insult the marvelous me!" Touko and Shigeru both jump in shock when the _cat_ starts speaking.

Well, Touko thought, a bit dazed, that was one way to confirm she was either going crazy of Takashi was speaking the truth. In his quiet way, Shigeru interrupts the budding argument between Takashi's cat and Shuuichi, who seems rather familiar and quite at home arguing with a _cat_ , and the conversation returns to Takashi.

He explains what Touko is sure are just the basics. That spirits exist and that he is one of a few people who can see them. His friend Shuuichi is an exorcist in his spare time when he is not acting. That most of the spirits Takashi meets are friendly. Touko senses a great deal of diversion there, but chooses not to worry about it right now, with so many other things to absorb. The cat is actually a giant fox spirit trapped in a cursed form, one of Takashi's school friends can also see spirits sometimes.

It is only as Takashi stumbles off to a strained end, seemingly unsure of what else to say that Shigeru voices the question that changes their small family's lives.

"Why are you telling us _now_ after living here for so long?" Shigeru asks. There is no judgement in his voice, only curiosity and a desire to know the truth. Takashi hesitates, scooting back on his chair. His hands tighten around the cat—fox in his arms, and he takes a quick panicked look at Shuuichi.

"Um, well, my grandmother, Reiko, she could see spirits too. She created a book where she collected the names of spirits. Spirit names are powerful and can be used to hurt ayakashi. I found her book and have been carefully protecting it and giving the names back." Takashi explains. The explanation seems hasty and Touko is not completely sure she understands, but she nods in encouragement anyway. "The other night a spirit came to visit, worried about the book, and he may have moved all of the names into me and turnedmeintoaspiritinordertoprotectthembetter."

"What." Touko voices the quiet word of confusion before she can think better of it. And seeming to not have the courage or the words to explain himself again begins to stand. Touko watches in mild astonishment and with a large dose of worry as Takashi sets down his cat and begins to take off the jacket he has been sheltering in all night.

And to Touko and Shigeru's horror, as the jacket drops from their foster son's hands, he disappears from sight.


	6. Chapter 6

They could not see him.

Touko was crying.

Shigeru's arms were wrapped around her, but his eyes roamed.

Right past Natsume.

Right _through_ Natsume.

He had known, but some small part of him had chosen to believe in a lie. Had chosen to hope in the possibility that they would still be able to see him.

But they couldn't see spirits.

And he was a spirit now.

He wasn't human anymore.

He wasn't human, wasn't human wasn'thumananymore-

A rough, wet tongue swiped gently up Natsume's cheek, pulling him up from a darkness he hadn't realized he had fallen into. Natsume jumped, looking into the giant eyes of his spirit friend. Nyanko-sensei didn't often get serious, but when he did, his large eyes were trustworthy, and determined and Natsume could remember it was safe-

"Breathe, brat." Nyanko-sensei nudged him in the chest, and the sensation reminded Natsume where his lungs were. He dragged in a ragged breath, and felt his vision clear and lighten as oxygen returned. Nyanko-sensei crawled further into his lap, and only then did Natsume realize he had fallen to his knees at some point. He hugged the pig-cat close, needing the comfort as he watched the people he had come to see as possibly permanent family look around the room, unable to see him.

"Is this what it was like for you that time I couldn't see you, sensei?" Natsume's voice came out dull and tired. Natsume was emotionally exhausted, and now that he had taken off the energy-eating coat that made him visible to humans, his body was making its own exhaustion known. He knew he would not be able to put it back on today without losing consciousness in the process.

Nyanko-sensei did not say a word, only reaching higher to rub his head under Natsume's chin. Natsume leaned into the touch, and unsatisfied, Nyanko changed form with a soft puff of air, wrapping his large form around Natsume. His fur encased Natsume like a safe cocoon, and Natsume clung to the fur with shaking hands. Some spiritual part of him, the new part that scared him, unfurled and surfaced happily under the spirit's affection.

"Madara." The name fell from his lips without his consent, capturing the attention of the spirit and attracting the laser focus of his intense eyes. Natsume never called him by his chosen spirit name. It had never felt right, but something in him felt the need to use it now. "Madara, I need-"

Whatever it was the spirit part of him needed, Natsume was not destined to find out, because he felt his energy plummet unexpectedly. He vaguely remembers hearing his name being called out, but he is already too far gone to respond as darkness overtakes his vision.

…

"Don't you dare bring that coat near him. I will tear you apart, puny exorcist!"

Nyanko found himself torn between two lives. The young godling in Natsume had called to a long hidden half of Nyanko, and the part of him that had always been Madara was now rising to the forefront. Feelings and duties he had long pushed aside now clamored for attention, and his need to protect Natsume had overwhelmed rational thought. He knew he was out of control, but the one thing he knew with a certainty is that Natsume is _his_ responsibility and no one else will touch him, let alone drape him in a coat that would drain Natsume's spiritual reserves.

Natori must be tired too, because he only sighs, draping the filthy coat over a chair and returning to the Fujiwara's side, attempting to persuade them that Natsume was fine even though he could not produce physical proof.

The Fujiwara's were strong, and kind for humans. Nyanko held little to no worries about how they would react to this change.

Still, Madara wished to hide the child away in a temple, safe from the world.

 _Even if temple's themselves can turn into a dangerous prison-_

Nyanko shook the thoughts from his head. Natsume would never forgive him if he dragged him away from this family. If. _If_ the Fujiwara's ever rejected this sweet child, then Madara may drag him away, but not a moment before, and never without Natsume's approval.

There would be no repeat of the tragedy…

"This is never going to work if they can't see him when he's home, pig-cat." Nyanko hid a flinch of surprise, curling more protectively around his charge.

"Then we will find a way for them to see him. Natsume deserves nothing less." Natori frowned at that.

"Deserving it or not, that doesn't mean we can just magic up a way for humans to see him again!" He pointed out angrily. Nyanko felt his ears flick up in interest, an idea catching in his mind.

"Magic!" Nyanko crows. "That's it! We will simply request one of Taki's circle's. She can make one around the house so that the Fujiwara's can see Natsume and any of the spirits his new duties will cause to visit!"

"Sp-spell circles are _illegal!"_ Natori splutters. "You can't use one, let alone wrap one around an entire house!

"True, the house itself may be hard to fit the design to properly. But we can definitely fit a few inside the house so that Natsume can interact with the Fujiwara's without that blasted coat!"

"Are you even listening to me? You can't use a spell circle, it is _illegal_. Not to mention _dangerous._ " Natori shook his hand angrily in the air. Nyanko scoffed. What could this puny human do to him, the magnificent Madara, anyway?

"We spirits have never held ourselves to your pathetic human rules, _exorcist_." Nyanko growls. He moves his tail to allow Natori to see Natsume's pale, unconscious face.

"Natsume cannot afford to live by your rules. The coat has already caused enough trouble today. It is bad enough knowing I will be unable to convince him to leave it be. We both know he will endanger himself if it means he can interact with the people he cares for."

That shut the stinky exorcist up, which Nyanko would have found more satisfying if it hadn't reminded him of the sorry state of his young charge. Natori crept forward to get a closer peak at the child cradled at Nyanko's side.

"Will he be okay?" Nyanko's fur settled a bit at the open concern. He made eye contact with the exorcist and nodded his head.

"With rest, he will be."

The room was silent for a minute, the Fujiwara couple watching on with wide, silent eyes as they heard half of a conversation.

"Even if the circle would work, I wouldn't know where to find one." Natori finally mumbled, slouching into the admission with a guilty expression. Nyanko huffed.

"Natsume has a friend who can get us one. He might have kept a copy somewhere in his room. I didn't pay that much attention. With or without the circle, the brat found trouble anyway. Circles are only dangerous for humans who don't know of the spirit world."

"Will it be dangerous for the Fujiwara's?" Natsume's hoarse whisper surprised Nyanko, who hadn't realized that Natsume had regained consciousness.

"If done properly, it should be safe. The smelly exorcist may have some helpful tricks as well." he conceded. Nyanko would do whatever it took to make the circles safe if it was what Natsume needed.

"Thank you, sensei." WIth that Nyanko heard the child's breathing slow, and he knew the child had returned to the land of dreams. He tucked his tail back around his charge and looked back towards the Fujiwara's.

No matter what it cost, Madara would protect this small family.

Even if it meant giving up the life he had selfishly chosen to keep millenia ago.

…..

Convincing the Fujiwara's that Natsume was safe even though they could not see him had been simpler than Natori had thought it would be.

The Fujiwara's were either too in shock to properly accept the situation, or had a strong belief in the supernatural. It might have helped to see the dumb pig-cat poof back into existence and watch Natori stumble up with stairs while cradling Natsume in his arms. They may not have been able to see Natsume, but a man walking up the stairs with his arms cradling a hundred-pound invisible weight must look strange unless you believed they were really carrying something they could not see.

Either way, both parties involved realized that Natori would be needed in the house until Natsume had regained the strength to use the jacket again. Touko had practically shoved Natori into the guest room as she insisted he stay the night.

Now, waking in an unfamiliar room to streaming morning light and the smell of something delicious, Natori wished he had a solution for the nasty problem that he had somehow gotten mixed up in. He wished he had a simple solution for Natsume.

But only time could tell how things would turn out.

"Nyanko-sensei! Get your fat butt off of me, I can't breathe!" The high, almost giggly voice from the next room calmed Natori's nerves somewhat.

"I require food and you took to long to wake up. I took it upon my magnificent self to help you along. You should be grateful, brat." Natori had never noticed the undertone of affection in the spirit's voice before. Perhaps because he had only ever seen the lazy side of spirit and hadn't wanted to let it be a creature of feeling. That would imply that not all spirits were as evil as he had led himself to believe. But it was unmistakable now.

Spirits, he decided, were as diverse as humans.

…..

Breakfast, Natsume had decided, was his least favorite meal of the day. If only because this mornings breakfast encounter had been so awkward.

Natsume didn't remember much about what had happened last night. But what he did remember made his cheeks burn. He hadn't thought it through, in typical style, and the Fujiwara's had had to deal with the consequences.

Natsume had to deal with an interrogation style breakfast from a well-meaning Touko-san (which was a very distressed and overbearing Touko-san), a near dissecting look from Shigeru-san, and a lot of underhanded ribbing from Natori, who enjoyed the morning encounter far more than he should have.  
The traitor hadn't even tried to help Natsume, just enjoyed watching him flounder under the attention.

Nyanko-sensei had been a godsend. He had been his normal annoying self, calling for attention and stealing most of Natsume's food. If he had been more affectionate and woken Natsume by sitting on him and grooming his hair, or rubbing reassuringly against his legs as he had put on the jacket, neither one of them would admit it to anyone.

Stifling a yawn that would send all the overprotective adults in the room into a panic that would keep him from getting to school and talking with Taki about getting a spirit circle, Natsume packed his school bag before anyone could try to convince him to stay home from school. He was on a mission to get life as close to normal as possible.

No one needed to know that he had avoided looking in the mirror this morning. It was bad enough to have seen the way Natori would catch him fiddling with the sleeves of the jacket, pulling them down over his hands as much as possible.

Hiding the moving black names that had taken over his skin. Hiding the reminder of his new status as an ayakashi.

All he needed to do was get a circle and things could go back to normal once the Fujiwara's could see him again.

They had to.

…..

Matoba was running out of patience.

Something had happened with Natsume, and Matoba sensed it could be the opportunity he finally needed to obtain the obedience of Natsume.

With all that power and potential at his fingertips, the Matoba clan would become invincible.

He couldn't sit by and wait any longer. He wanted the boy now.

He needed him.

"Reschedule my afternoon appointment with the elders and cancel any other appointments I have today, Sousuke. There's an important errand I need to attend to."  
"But sir-"

"Just do it, Sousuke, and get the car ready. The sooner the better."

Sousuke nodded his head apprehensive, but left without further argument.

"You will be mine Natsume Takashi."

…..

Tanuma knew something was wrong when Natsume didn't come in with Nishimura and Kitamoto like he normally did.

Tanuma and Natsume didn't always talk at school, but Natsume had started at least meeting up with him shortly in the morning to reassure him he was okay. Tanuma had seen too many spirits attack Natsume to not worry about his friend. He felt bad for putting Natsume through the extra effort, but after working so hard to get Natsume to start involving him in at least some of his ayakashi encounters, he felt better knowing that when he wasn't there to help, Natsume was still okay.

If that meant that he occasionally had to play up his concern to make Natsume guilty enough to keep tabs with him, Tanuma figured it was a worthy cause.

The downside was that Tanuma worried more when Natsume broke pattern.

"Nishimura, Kitamoto!"

"Hey, Tanuma!"

"Did Natsume not come to school with you guys today?" The two friends shrug helplessly.

"He wasn't at the meet up point, and he doesn't like when we wait for him."

"We usually just wait anyway and tell him we were running late too, but he never showed up today." Nishimura shrugged.

"Maybe he's just running extra late. He always lets us know ahead of time if he's home sick." Tanuma pursed his lips, but nodded his head.

"Thanks anyway." They part ways as Tanuma heads back towards the school entrance. He still has time to check one more time for Natsume before classes start. Otherwise, he'll just have to call him at lunch.

The last of the stragglers are arriving as Tanuma reaches the entrance. Natsume isn't among them, and Tanuma worries as he heads back to class.

He can't keep his eyes from wandering to the empty seat by the window where Natsume always sits as the teacher begins class. The teacher doesn't seem overly worried that Natsume is absent but seemed as surprised as everyone else that he wasn't at school.

Natsume's relatives hadn't dismissed him from class, then.

But no one had seen him yet today. Could an ayakashi have held him up? Natsume often complained that the kappa that lived near his house was always getting itself into trouble, and Natsume was so kind he was always attracting weak-spirited yokai who needed help.

But Tanuma had also seen the way that unkind and powerful yokai looked at Natsume. The hungry and possessive looks they gave his friend.

And that wasn't even including the strange exorcists that Natsume knew. Natsume didn't talk about them much, but Tanuma had talked with Natori-san a few times and wasn't sure that he trusted him as much as Natsume did. And he seemed to be the best of the batch. If Natsume wouldn't talk about them, Tanuma thought it could only be because they were dangerous. It was the only reason Natsume ever kept quiet. That or if he thought the knowledge would inconvenience someone or make them worry.

Which only made Tanuma worry more.

The door banged open in a rush, startling Tanuma from his thoughts.

"Sorry I'm late sensei!" Tanuma felt his momentary excitement drop at the sound of a female voice. He had hoped that Natsume was coming in, late but safe.

Now he wasn't so sure.

The first class of the morning ended with no other interruptions, and Tanuma found his eyes straying more and more often to the empty chair by the window. Where was Natsume?

They were five minutes into the second class of the day when the door creaked slowly open. Tanuma felt a shiver pass through him as he felt an overwhelmingly strong energy through the open crack in the room. The teacher paused as a sandy blonde head peaked shyly into the classroom, head down, eyes on the floor. Tanuma was unable to look away. He could make out the hair of the person coming into the room clearly, but the rest of them was blurry, like there was a thick glass keeping him from seeing them properly.

"Sorry I'm late, sensei." Natsume's voice was unmistakable, tiny and sheepish as it was.

The rest of the class continued as if everything were normal. For everyone else, it would be. For everyone else but Tanuma, the way that Natsume's spirit energy radiated wouldn't be so overpowering that it was making his physically nauseous. For everyone else, Natsume wouldn't be a blurry outline with hair, unlike any overshadowing or possession Tanuma had ever seen. For everyone else it would look like a normal day.

But Natsume wouldn't even look at Tanuma.

When the class was released to go to gym class, Natsume made an excuse to Nishimura and Kitamoto. Tanuma watched them exchange worried looks but they left. Soon Tanuma and Natsume were alone in the room. Only then did Tanuma slip from his chair and make his way over to his friend, trying not to gag on the overwhelming energy that only got stronger the closer he got to Natsume.

"Natsume?"

"Tanuma!"

Tanuma knew enough about Natsume to know that he was a very private person, and that touching should be limited and rarely initiated without Natsume's unvoiced approval. So to be suddenly trapped in a tight hug, with his friend shuddering from tears that Tanuma could feel on his shirt but not see on his friend's blurry face was terrifying.

Something had gone terribly wrong this weekend. Tanuma would not rest until he knew what it was and had done everything in his power to fix it.

…..

They had snuck Taki out of class. Natsume felt bad for disrupting his friends' lives, but Tanuma had been a wall of undeterrable energy since Natsume had unwittingly fallen apart on him, and Natsume only wanted to have to explain himself once. So they snuck out and caught Taki's attention. She had snuck away with a little too much glee, probably expecting to see Nyanko-sensei, but he had been left home when Shigeru and Touko had gotten overprotective and forced Natsume to get a ride from Shigeru-san once they found out what effects the jacket had on his energy levels.

Nyanko-sensei had said he would meet Natsume at school, but Natsume doubted he would actually make it, lazy as he was. Natsume always ended up carrying him most of the trip. And even as overprotective as the spirit was behaving, Natsume still didn't expect miracles.

"What's up guys? Where's Neko-chan?" Taki's bubbly voice did a lot to settle Natsume's frayed nerves.

"He didn't make it to school today. Shigeru-san insisted on dropping me off, and I didn't have a good excuse to bring him with." Natsume shrugged apologetically. Taki settled into the grass at their side, giving Natsume a more critical once over.

"You look tired. And something about you just seems a little off, Natsume. Are you okay?" Tanuma's eyes burnt holes in Natsume's head. He couldn't help but duck his head self-consciously under the scrutiny. He had a feeling that Tanuma couldn't see him properly, and knew he should explain everything, but he didn't want to worry his friends or get them involved in anything dangerous accidentally.

"I'm fine." He said. "But I did want to ask a favor of you, Taki. Would you mind lending me a sketch of the yokai circle? I lost the one you gave me, and I need it for something that came up."

"Sure, I have one back at the house, we could go grab it after school."

"Thanks, Taki."

"Why do you need one at all, Natsume? And what has happened to you? Taki may not be able to tell, but I can see that something is wrong with your spirit energy. Have you been possessed by something dangerous?" Tanuma slowly reached out an arm to clutch at Natsume's sleeve. It was an unexpected expression of his worry that made Natsume feel good, even as he struggled with a response.

"I-" He started, the words getting clogged in his throat. The Fujiwara's had accepted him, but would his two friends who had had so many dangerous and scary experiences with ayakashi feel the same way about his new status? Natsume tugged anxiously at his coat sleeves, diverting his eyes when squiggly lines wriggled up his fingers seeking his attention.

"Oi, brat." A heavy weight settled on his back, pushing Natsume forward and practically into Tanuma's lap. Taki squealed.

"Neko-chan!"

"Oi, get off me!" Despite his harsh words, Natsume could hear the pleasure in Nyanko-sensei's voice. He loved attention, even if his pride made him pretend it was beneath him.

The group settled themselves again, Nyanko-sensei wrestling himself out of Taki's grip to set himself protectively in Natsume's lap. Natsume couldn't help the way his arms instinctively clung to the spirit. The last few days had been exhausting, and Nyanko-sensei had become an anchor. Something deep inside of Natsume said Nyanko-sensei was safe. That part of him that had changed and become other when he became a spirit _needed_ Nyanko-sensei.

Natsume was powerless to stop it.

How could he when he didn't understand it?

"This isn't one you can hide anymore, kid." The truth of that statement hurt. But with a little help, Natsume managed to tell his friends about what had happened.

He left out the part where Natori almost strangled him to death, how many times he cried, and the overwhelming experiences of receiving new names, but he shared the big picture.

At the end, Tanuma and Taki still wanted to be his friends, even expressing interest in seeing his new form with the help of a yokai circle. Natsume internally cringed, not so sure they won't change their minds when they see his new form, but keeps quiet. He will take every second with them as he can. If they are going to reject his friendship later when they see his true form, he wants as many memories to remember them by as possible before then.

School was ending by the time the two had satisfied themselves with questions. Tanuma and Taki stood almost protectively on either side of Natsume, closer to his sides than normal. Rather than feeling boxed in, Natsume felt touched by the protective show of support, and gave his friends a gentle smile. Around the entrance of the school was a large crowd of students. The unusual commotion caught Natsume's attention. He groaned.

"That's probably Natori here to pick me up." He sighed. Natori had decided to stay at the Fujiwara residence until they had worked out the majority of Natsume's situation. He said he didn't have another shoot until next month, and Touko had insisted he stay at the house to save him the expenses on commuting every day to check on Natsume. Considering the over-anxious protective streak his foster family had been displaying this morning, Natsume wouldn't be surprised at all if Natori had been sent to walk him home since Shigeru wouldn't be off work in time to do it himself.

Natori had a horrible tendency of attracting too much attention. Most of Natsume's classmates were big fans, much to Natsume's chagrin.

"Is that a limo?" Taki asked. Natsume's head snapped up.

"What?"

"A limo, Natsume. Does Natori have a limo?"

"No. The only person I know with a limo is-" Natsume felt his face drain of color as his brain connected the dots. As if summoned by Natsume's thoughts, the crowd parted and an intense pair of sharp eyes drilled into Natsume's own. They widened momentarily before narrowing in predatory determination. A polite smile morphed into a hunter's cocky grin. Natsume felt like a cornered prey, staring down the barrel of a gun at it's certain doom.

"Matoba."


	7. Chapter 7

Everything went wrong in the blink of an eye.

One second Natsume had a hold on Tanuma's arm, the next he was gone, yanked from his side in a moment of distraction.

While Matoba had been putting on a show with a dramatic entrance, his shikis had snuck around behind Natsume and caught him unawares. Natsume made eye contact with Tanuma, pulling desperately at the shiki's grip. It slowed them down slightly, but he was still out of reach of Taki and Tanuma's grasping hands. Another shiki joined the mix, yanking hard enough on Natsume's jacket to rip a seam out with a loud tearing sound.

Natsume watched in horror as Taki flinched back, her eyes wide and searching, but no longer meeting his.

"Natsume?!" she asked in horror.

"He's still right there! We just can't see him." Tanuma's voice was angry and determined all in one. He may not be able to see Natsume any longer, but Natsume was glad to see that he was at least still looking in his general direction, his minimal ability to sense ayakashi coming in handy.

But not handy enough.

Just as Natsume had freed an arm enough to start swinging for a powerful punch, his head whipped forward from a powerful hit to the back of the head. Natsume's vision swam with stars, his resistance cut short by a sharp pain in his head. By the time he had managed to gain his bearings, his hands had been harshly slammed together. An overwhelming burning sensation dragged Natsume's attention from the pain in his head, and he looked down sharply to where his arms felt like they were being consumed by _fire_.

Natsume's eyes widened in horror at the spiritual bindings wrapped around his wrists. He felt how his energy lagged immediately, his limbs turning sluggish and heavy. The urge to take a nap hit like an anvil, and he fought to keep his eyes from closing against his will. Slumping in his captor's hold, he couldn't even muster the energy to cry out as they picked him up and whisked him away from his friends. He could only watch as they blindly grasped at empty air and called out unable to receive a response. Natsume's sluggish mind caught on a new overlooked detail.

'Where's nyanko-sensei?' he wondered, eyes roving without finding his friend.

His search was cut short by the slam of a car door, and a sudden darkness. In the time it took Natsume's eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, he had been forcefully resituated to lay sprawled across the bottom of a car, chains attached to his neck and ankles that burned for a brief moment before he felt a numbness overtake him. His body relaxed against his will at the lack of burning pain in his body. HIs eyes closed in momentary relief.

"Hello Natsume."

Natsume couldn't feel his body, but at that moment he could have sworn someone had stabbed him with a piece of jagged ice.

…

Natori was running late.

He would blame that stupid demon of Natsume's, but it had disappeared after brownnosing its way into all of the leftovers from breakfast.

No, unfortunately, Natori's tardiness was his own overprotective fault. He had found himself obsessively re-applying protections to the Fujiwara's house, only to remember after setting up several dozen that he would have to adjust each of them for Natsume's new unique constitution.

Which then led to the depressing thought that the child would want his ayakashi friends to also be able to enter the premises…

Needless to say, Natori had found his afternoon to be an unproductive fit of putting up and taking down shikis and protective charms while a bemused Touko-san watched his frenzied mess-making with quiet attention. After a war and a half, only three shiki were left in place, and it felt like a flimsy protection and an unproductive afternoon. The sun was lowering towards the western skyline when he came out of his silent frustrations and realized the time.

Natsume would have been out of school now by a good thirty minutes, and Natori had meant to be there at least twenty minutes early to make sure the brat hadn't drained himself overly much throughout the day with that coat he had grown troublingly attached to in the span of a day.

It was only huffing and puffing at the school gates that Natori realized he should have expected to find Natsume somewhere along the road on his way _back_ from school rather than _at_ it that the panic first niggled at the back of his mind.

The school was surprisingly busy for the hour when Natori finally caught his breath enough to take in his surroundings. It calmed his nerves somewhat. Perhaps he hadn't encountered Natsume because he was still here enjoying whatever childish commotion had caught their innocent attention.

"Hey, isn't that the famous actor Natori Shuuichi?" The rather loud whisper caught Natori's attention and made him aware of yet another mistake for the day. He hadn't bothered with a disguise, and Natsume would kill him for drawing so much attention.

"What is going on today? First some fancy limo shows up, and now a famous actor?"

"Do you think they are going to shoot a film at the school?"

Natori blocks out the growing noise as more and more children chime in on the conversation, his eyes carding over the crowd for a set of golden hair and matching eyes.

Instead, he finds himself looking into a familiar pair of dark, soulful eyes. That spiritually-sensitive friend of Natsume's. What was his name again? Tanaka?

Before he can really think more on it, he finds himself dragged forward by said boy, around the side of the school building and out of sight of the rest of the school children. A mousy girl with a dangerous gleam in her eyes follows around the corner.  
"Your that exorcist friend of Natsume's." The accusation comes out as more a breath of relief than the boy's expression leads him to expect.

"Yes." Natori keeps his response clipped, not wanting to give too much information away until he has had a chance to confirm what Natsume's friends know of the recent...incident. The mousy girl moves forward like a cat stalking prey and it draws Natori's eyes as he regards her cautiously. And then in horror.

"Why do you have a shiki?" It's in his hands moments later, though he doesn't remember moving to grab it. He notes the familiarity of the overly flowing scrawl and the way that the two children are hovering around him like lost puppies. He remembers the mention of a limousine.

Dread pools in his stomach.

"Where's Natsume?"

…

"Where _is NATSUME?"_

Only internal hunches answer him.

…..

"You really are a unique treasure, Natsume." Matoba can't help the way that his voice caresses the child's name.

No. Not child. The yokai.

His yokai.

The small yokai shivers, but even tied up and immobilized as it is, it still looks up at him defiantly. Oh, but Matoba has longed for the day he would battle with Natsume and _win_.

Matoba had always known that young Natsume was special, that he would be the key to the rise of the Matoba clan, but to see him now, changed and simply _oozing_ spirit energy….Matoba couldn't believe his luck.

He may not understand what or how Natsume had come to be a spirit, but he knew how to jump in and take advantage of the benefits. After all, a spirit was much simpler to manipulate than a child.

Children were protected by societal rules. People noticed when they were hurt, when they went missing, if someone was cruel to them.

But a spirit….no one could see a spirit, so why would they care if it was hurt, taken, manipulated, _broken_?

They wouldn't.

And if the Fujiwara's could not find young Natsume in his care, they could not accuse him of taking him from them. Even if that was the very thing he would do. He would rip Natsume from their grasp and tie his existence to the Matoba line.

After all, there were so many ways to bind a spirit to his bidding.

The possibilities made Matoba restless. He could not wait any longer. Natsume would be his. Tonight.

A quiet noise of complaint drew Matoba's eyes back to his prize. He leaned down to pat its head.

"Don't worry, Takashi, I will take very good care of you from now on." He watched the panic well up in its eyes, a useless struggle to move its limbs that only manages to twitch one finger half an inch. He smirks, delighted at the display of emotion across its features.

"When I went to gather you today, I knew you would be worth the effort, but I hadn't realized you would have become such an intriguing creature." He mused aloud, enjoying the yokai's discomfort more than he had expected to. "I had always assumed yokai were unfeeling monsters, but I know _you,_ Takashi. And even now, changed as you are, I can see the human in you still. The emotion in your eyes gives you away."

The silence stretches as he gazes down at the spirit, and unsatisfied, he reaches down and yanks the spirit's head up toward him, eliciting a pained gasp.

"Please, let me go." Takashi whispers. Matoba smiles.

"If you behave, I won't have to hurt you." He demonstrates by complying with the request, releasing Takashi's hair and running his hands through the golden hair soothingly. "I want you to be happy with me, Takashi." The spirit flinches.

"Let me go home, to the Fujiwara's." It clarifies. Matoba's brows lift in amusement.

"The Fujiwara's is no residence for a spirit to dwell. Your home is with the Matoba, Takashi." He watches the small thing flinch from the statement, and it makes him smile.

"Besides," he continues. "I heard you are in possession of a very dangerous book. And what sort of exorcist would I be if I didn't make sure it was in safe hands?"

…

Something was wrong.

Nyanko couldn't breath. He felt squished and squeezed and like part of his soul was missing. He couldn't access any of his powers, no matter how hard he tried. And he _tried_.

Regret bloomed deep within him as he finally gave in to the truth.

He had been trapped inside of a jar.

The indignity of it was insulting to his magnificent self.

The horror if it left him with a deep pain as old scars opened and long-ignored memories rose to the surface of his mind.

His age old duty.

His fight with old deities.

His son.

His failure.

He would not allow this darkness to conquer his life again. Natsume would not become the next sacrifice for human greed. He couldn't afford to lose another son.

Not again.

Coiling up his spirit as much as he could, Nyanko sat in silence and darkness. And he waited for an opportunity to escape.

…

Natsume couldn't breath.

As he stared up at a man who had become more of a monster each time he met him, he felt an instinctive dread at what his future would entail. He had been so wrapped up in fear and turmoil about what his change would mean for his relationship with his loved ones that he hadn't considered the rest of the other, more dangerous repercussions his change would have on his life.

Of those, the most dangerous of all was Matoba, yet Natsume had unwittingly already held the man's attention. Matoba knew about the book of friends.

The book that was now _in_ Natsume.

Matoba reached down towards Natsume again, and he flinched, his skin crawling at the thought of the exorcist touching him again. The man ignored him, grabbing his bag and pulling it up into his lap. Natsume couldn't help the ingrained panic that encompassed him after months of keeping the book of friends in his bag. Matoba smirked at him.

Natsume glared, satisfied the man would at least be thwarted in finding the book.

Matoba opened the bag with a slow reverence, his eyes gleaming with a manic glee, only for it to quickly turn into silent rage.

"Where is it?" he growled.

Natsume didn't bother responding, turning his eyes away from the man in smug denial.

"Where _is_ it?" He hissed, yanking once again on Natsume's hair. Natsume couldn't help the gasp of pain at the unexpected retaliation.

"I don't have it anymore." he managed, not meeting Matoba's eyes. Truth. He didn't have a physical book anymore.

"Then where-" the man cut himself off. " _Natori."_ Natsume was not going to disway the man from his misguided thoughts. Matoba could go on a wild goose chase for a book that no longer existed, and it would keep his attention off of Natsume. He snuck a peak up at the man who held him captive, noticing how put together he looked. Not a hair was out of place, but Natsume felt that after this recent revelation he wasn't as composed on the inside as he appeared on the outside.

Natsume just didn't know if that was good or bad for him yet.

The limo pulled to a stop, and Natsume's limp body slid slightly towards Matoba from the inertia. The man pulled from his crazed thoughts, and looked back down at the boy, his eyes scarily possessive.

"Come along, Takashi." He said. "It is time to get you settled in your new home." He scooped Natsume's limp form into a bridal carry, and carried him into a surprisingly small mansion for the Matoba family. Large, ancient trees surrounded the house, making it hard to see in the dense forest. Natsume did not recognize it, had no way to know how far from home he had been taken, or what direction to go if he did find a way to escape.

The inside of the house smelled heavily of incense. It prickled in Natsume's nose uncomfortably, and made his skin crawl. The new, instinctive part of him did not like this place. It wasn't safe.

The halls were dark, and there were very few windows. It made Natsume feel claustrophobic. Matoba set him on a lavish sofa in a large bedroom, and then made his way over to a desk covered in things both familiar and unfamiliar to Natsume. He recognized the shikis, jars, and seals. The pots of colored paints and pastes gave him pause, a sinking feeling in his gut.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

He couldn't move, so he anxiously watched as Matoba set up a wooden platform in the center of the room. He started to draw out runes and symbols in an intricate pattern on the floor, colors and salts and oils and Natsume lost track of all that he had laid out. But he recognized it.

This was an ayakashi circle, much like Taki's but far more sinister in design.

When Matoba finally seemed satisfied with it, he came over to Natsume. Rather than pick him up, he dragged Natsume towards the circle. Resting him on his useless feet near its edge and holding him up and in place. Natsume felt himself shivering at the close proximity of the dark magic, but couldn't move away if he wanted to.

"Now Takashi, be a dear would you?" Matoba hummed, smiling down at him. Natsume glanced up at him in confusion, only to find the bindings torn from his wrist. His limbs lit up with tingling pain, instantly responding to him again, just in time to catch him in a stumbling fall as Matoba pushed him backwards towards the ayakashi circle.

Natsume felt a slimy caress as he crossed over its border. The instinct to gag hit him instantly, but he shoved it down and made his way back to the edge of the circle as he regained his feet, only to run into an invisible barrier that prevented him from leaving. Panic seized his chest.

"Let me out!"  
"You know, it's a beautiful thing, this circle." Matoba said languidly as he circled the platform. Natsume turned instinctively, not wanting to let this man out of his sight. "They only work if a yokai crosses into their border free and of their own will, but once inside, that will is no longer theirs." He stopped right in front of Natsume, inches away from his face, separated only by an invisible border.

"You are mine, Takashi."

…

48 hours.

It had been 48 hours since Natsume had been taken.

28 hours since he had told the Fujiwara's their foster son had been kidnapped.

12 hours since Hiiragi had come back empty-handed with no trail or idea where to look for Natsume.

Over 48 hours since Natori had last slept.

48 hours since anyone had seen Natsume's useless spirit 'guardian.'

Far, far too many hours that Natsume had been in the grasp of the psychopath _Matoba_.

Natori paced tiredly back and forth near the entrance to Natsume's school, at a loss. He had sent out shiki and reached out to every contact he knew could be trusted for information on possible hideouts where Matoba might have locked Natsume away.

Hiirage had already raided all the ones Natori knew about. Each time she came back with no news tore at Natori more and more.

He should have been there.

If he had only been there-

There was no point wallowing in despair. Despair wouldn't rescue Natsume.

A rustle drew Natori's attention, and he turned to face the disturbance, finding a small, tattered shiki. He took with with only the smallest glimmer of hope, but there nonetheless.

He quietly waited out its whispered message, his eyes blowing wide in shock.

"We found him."

…..

Natsume was living a nightmare.

That was what all of this had to be. The strange God of Ayakashi, nearly drowning in the river, the disaster with the book of friends, becominganayakashiwithstrangeurgesandinstincts, being kidnapped by Matoba, and-

All of it had to be a dream. It _had_ to. He didn't know what he would do ifthishadbecomehisnewnormal-

"Come along, Yuuto." Natsume's feet moved obediently and of their own accord. The silky kimono he had been given to wear slithered soothingly across his skin, a small physical comfort in a harsh new reality.

His hands clenched but he was careful not to let it show or allow it to wrinkle the fabric of his expensive outfit. That would only make Matoba mad, and Natsume couldn't handle another harsh reality on top of everything else that he had been forced to fully come to terms with since his captivity.

Thathewasn'thuman _thathedidn'thavecontrolofanythinganymoreandNyanko-_

"You are thinking too hard again, Yuuto." Matoba smirked as he came to a stop, placing a hand on Natsume's cheek like a caring parent might with a worried child.

But Natsume knew better.

"Stop calling me that."

"But it fits you so well, Yuu~to~" Matoba leaned in closer, forcing Natsume back against the wall and tilting his head up in forced submission. "And you were so opposed to me calling you Takashi, isn't this what you _wanted_?"

"That isn't what I meant and you know it." Natsume couldn't keep the angry bite out of his voice. He was exhausted both physically and mentally and backed into a corner by the cruelest man he had ever known with no escape in sight. He was worn out and stretched to the point of breaking, and knew only worst things could come. For the last two days Matoba had simply led Natsume around like a pet on a leash, showing him off to the residents and visitors in the manor. Old stuffy men had eyeballed Natsume with open greed and intrusive touches that left him feeling like a piece of merchandise being checked over for imperfections.

" _It's a strange one you caught this time, Matoba-san."_

" _What are these strange moving markings it has?"_

" _It seems puny and useless to me. Better to rid ourselves of its existence than to play owner to a dangerous_ thing _like that."_

"What you want doesn't matter, Yuuto." Matoba says, waiting with a pointedly raised brow.

"Yes, master." The words force themselves out even as tears of frustration form at the corners of Natsume's vision. _You will show me the proper respect I am due as your master._

"Now, Yuuto, I have a very important task for you today." He waits a moment for Natsume to ask a question, but Natsume will not give him the pleasure of his interest or his voice after being forced to speak to him with deference once again. After a minute Matoba grows impatient and continues on without Natsume's commentary.

"I grow tired of being able to only use one eye…" he trails of suggestively, and Natsume feels a shudder crawl its way across his skin. His eyes rise from where they had been obstinately pointed at the ground to meet Matoba's, golden eyes wide with horror at the smirk on Matoba's face.

"You-I-what?" He stutters out.

"Now, now, Yuuto." Matoba pats his head like one would an agitated cat, and Natsume smacks his head into the wall trying to duck from under his hand. "Don't underestimate yourself. I may have only seen a small glimpse of your true power, but I know that having a yokai like you serving the Matoba clan, I no longer need the bothersome attention of that horrid eye-stealing demon any longer. You more than make up any loss its...disposal...may bring to the Matoba clan."

Matoba wanted Natsume to- to-

"You want me to-" He couldn't say it, too horrified, the new part of him so disgusted by the thought that he nearly threw up his meager portion of food across Matoba's fancy robe.

"You are going to kill it for me, Yuu~to~." Matoba sing-songs, gleeful in the face of Natsume's horror.

"NO!" Natsume sees more than he feels his power lashing out, the room flashing with a bright golden light as Matoba is tossed into the wall across the room. Natsume can feel the ayakashi writhing across his skin in anger and anguish and disgust at the thought of ending a life. He can't do it. Natsume takes a step down the hall, intent on leaving before he can be forced to such an act when his feet glue themselves to the floor. _You belong by my side and will not run away._ Natsume's body quivers, his breath quick and panicky as he realizes he is trapped. A hand settles on his shoulder, firm and grounding and just like a cage.

"Please, _no_." Natsume pleads. "Please, I can't - I _can't-_ "

"Please, what, Yuuto?" Matoba's grib hardens until it hurts, making Natsume curl under his harsh hand.

"Please _master_." Natsume begs. "Please don't make me do it." Silent tears stream down his face in his desperation. A wild crying instinct within him rages at the thought of killing. _It is against their very existence as a god of ayakashi to hurt those they were created to protect, they cannot do it. They would sooner_ die.

"Better, pet, but no." Matoba releases Natsume so he can step in front of him, another barrier between Natsume and freedom. "You belong to me, and you do as I say. You will kill the eye-stealing ayakashi for me, Yuuto."

The order ties Natsume's will in knots, and he collapses to the floor, unable to move. A sob rips from his throat and he hides his face in his hands, to pretend for a moment that if he cannot see where he is, that he will no longer be with Matoba in this prison. But he can hear Matoba's light soothing words in his ear, and feel long, possessive fingers running through his hair in an almost caring gesture and it shatters another part of him to pieces.  
Matoba won't even let him cry over his lost freedom in solitude.

Matoba pulls Natsume into his lap as he grieves his fate, and Natsume doesn't have the energy to fight him.


	8. Chapter 8

Matoba may not know what had caused the change in young Natsume, but he did know how to take advantage of it.

A battle raged within the child. New instincts and urges that he was fighting and denying, making him an easy target for a Matoba with big plans and an even larger drive to accomplish his designs. The child's fight with his own nature made him easier for Matoba to play with and drive into submission. Two days of non-stop interaction with the child, depriving him from sleep and food, constantly picking at his status as a yokai and demeaning his self worth had worked far better than he had ever thought possible with such a strong-willed and driven boy.

But that was just it, wasn't it? He was no longer a boy. He was a yokai and yokai were nothing but tools.

Certainly, the child had his ill-formed opinions of yokai being 'friends' and having feelings, but Matoba would break that rosy view to fit his own ends for the boy. Yokai, much like people, served either as helpful tools or as a nuisance that should be removed. And Natsume was the most interesting tool he had found in a long time.

Matoba glanced at his new toy, curled into a small ball in the corner, a simple pillow and a light blanket all he had for comfort as he rested on the floor. His breathing was shallow, his fingers twitching occasionally. He would wake up sore from the position, but it served a purpose. Only obedient and useful pets received physical comforts like beds. The child would receive a futon when he earned it, and would suffer until then.

Natsume was stubborn, even still. For all that Matoba was striving to tear his identity from him and build a new one to his preference, the child fought tooth and nail to defy his every wish. It was amusing… for now. But in a few short hours Natsume would kill for Matoba for the first time, and it would help break him of his resistance.

Matoba could not wait.

…..

Natori was exhausted. Not just from the hike through the middle of nowhere to the newest hideout the Matoba clan had crawled into, but because of the unexpected company on his trip. Natori knew that Natsume had many...friends among the yokai, but hadn't really taken the time to consider how attached it made them.

It also didn't prepare him for how abrasive and obnoxious they all were, but considering the kid's nature, it wasn't surprising that he would draw all sorts of strange beings to him. He was too kind for his own good.

"Ugh, are we there yet? If I have to surround myself with the presence of awful men, I would prefer to at least have my precious Natsume-chan with me."

"Hinoe-san, that's so rude!" The multitude of yokai that make up the Dog's Circle all cry out in shock, making Natori wince.

They are too loud.

"Hush, fools, or you will give the game away sooner than my grand figure." Misuzu scolds with a deep scowl. His chastisement cows the group, thankfully, a task Natori had given up within the first 5 minutes of their trek into the forest.

"It's about five minutes further in this direction." The quiet voice rings clear in the new quiet. Natori studies the owner of the voice again, now that they have drawn attention to themselves for the first time since their very brief introduction when they had claimed to know where Natsume was.

The spirit is that of a small blue bird with cat-fish whiskers behind its beak. It wore a flowing robe that seemed far too large for it, and was jittery with nerves. Despite its nervous look, Natori got the sense that it was a spirit not to be trifled with. His eyes ached when he looked at it, which made him wonder if it didn't wear a glamour to disguise its true presence.

It was fishy.

But he was their only hope.

With a final nod at the Dog's Circle, everyone parted ways, sticking to the plan they had hastily put together an hour ago as they started out to rescue Natsume. The small, vibrant yokai stayed still next to Natori, watching them all go.

"Why are you helping us?" Natori was just curious enough to ask while he still could.

"..."

Natori had turned, not expecting an answer anymore when he finally received it.

"Riniki-sama gave up everything for this boy." The voice is no longer quiet, but is strong and echoes back from against the trees. "As his heir, it is my duty to carry on his work in his place now that he no longer has the power to."

It took Natori's eyes only a moment to widen at the abundance of information.

"You are a god of yokai."

"And you are unusually observant for an exorcist." the bird-spirit hums in approval. "We help our own, and Natsume-sama may be a new-born, but he is ours."

The small god looks to Natori, and for a moment, the illusion is gone. A hulking blue dragon blazes with determination before Natori's eyes, and he finds his heart lifting from a well of hopelessness he hadn't realized he had resigned himself to.

"Now, let's go retrieve the godling."

…..

The kimono that Matoba had set out for Natsume was blood red.

Natsume had not eaten recently, but still felt nauseous just looking at it. Natsume had never been a huge fan of the color red, and now he didn't think he ever could like the color again.

"Come now, put it on, Yuuto." A slimy hand wove through his hair possessively even as it pushed his head forward, forcing him to take a submissive stance. "Wouldn't want to keep the clan waiting, now would we?"

"No, m…" Natsume swallowed down the word 'master,' even as a twinge of pain twisted inside of him at the disrespect.

"That's right, pet. Get all that stubborn disobedience out while you still _can._ " Natsume shivered as warm breath ghosted over his shoulder and past his ear. "I plan on breaking that spirit of yours today."

Matoba left then, but Natsume was no more free than he had been with the exorcist's hovering presence. He was not allowed to leave the room, could not take a step forward towards the door if he thought of even opening the door without permission.

But, he had _not_ been ordered to dress. And Natsume would not make a single move that would willingly bring him towards Matoba's goals.

They had made a routine of it, in the time he had been here: Matoba would tell him to do something, Natsume would blatantly ignore him, and once Matoba had gotten tired of waiting, he would order Natsume to do whatever assigned task he had for him. Natsume still lost, but it felt at least a bit more like he hadn't completely betrayed his morals and his friends by fighting in this small way.

Natsume felt it was still a rather bleak outlook, but it was a silver lining he would cherish after those first few hours under Matoba's control, being treated like a delicate doll, placed and arranged and ordered in a neverendingcycleof-

"Get dressed now, Yuuto." The order was unexpected, and Natsume would have jumped if he had control of his body anymore. As it was, all he could do was watch his ink-covered hands carefully pulled on the ridiculously fancy kimono. After, he sat silently as Matoba weaved beads into his hair, unable to so much as twitch a finger.

A plate of dinner had been laid out for Natsume, but after his rebellion today, he expected that it would sit untouched, just as his last 2 meals had. Matoba enjoyed bringing things to Natsume's attention just to deny them when he didn't get the exact behavior he wanted.

Natsume suspected that the only reason he wasn't faint with hunger was because he had been overwhelmed with anxiety and adrenaline since his kidnapping. It may have to do a bit with his new...constitution...but Natsume had decided it was better to just pretend that nothinghadchangedhewas _-_

"I look forward to working with you today, Natsume Takashi." The use of his name tugged Natsume from his thoughts, likely the exact reason that Matoba had decided to do it. Everything Matoba did was calculated, focused and cruel. "Today you will help me prove to my clan that I have truly succeeded in filling and surpassing my role as clan head. Your service in my name today will mark the beginning of a new era of power for the Matoba clan. Do me proud, Takashi."

With a tug, Natsume was pulled to his feet, and he found himself in control of his own body again.

"It is time, Matoba," the sudden appearance of Nanase in the doorway sent a shiver of fear down Natsume's spine. The woman had never been kind to him, but now that he was a spirit, she had become down-right cruel. "For your sake, I hope this fool-hearty plan works." Her harsh eyes found Natsume's and he found himself looking to the ground, feeling small and insignificant.

"So little faith in my capabilities, Nanase?" Matoba drawled, continuing to drag Natsume forward with little effort as he addressed the hardened woman, not phased by her words at all. A huff of air was her only reply as she sauntered away ahead of them.

Natsume knew what was coming next, had heard Matoba describe it in painfully detailed imagery. His heels were digging uselessly at the hardwood floor. The silk slippers he had no choice in wearing sliding over the surface of the floor, providing no aid in his efforts to delay their arrival at the clan meeting.

"Matoba, please," he breathed desperately, unconsciously, as their destination came into sight.

"Please what, pet?" Matoba sang at him, stopping before the large ornamental door.

"..." Natsume's voice died in his throat when he met Matoba's eyes and saw the dead, unfeeling eyes just like those of all his past caretakers. Natsume didn't reflect on them often, made a point of thinking only of the present and sometimes on good days he even thought of the future, but looking into Matoba's eyes recalled years of pain and hate-fueled words, small bare rooms and tears of hopelessness. Natsume knew those eyes. Matoba's eyes were the eyes of an unapproachable adult who had made their decision. His words would fall on deaf ears, and the new, prideful part of his nature refused to bow again to the man who enjoyed hearing his useless pleas.

Matoba raised an eyebrow before letting a smirk take over his face.

"You will obey every command I give you in the next room, Natsume." Feeling invisible strings take control of his body, Natsume didn't doubt Matoba for a minute.

…..

Hiiragi did not like the Matoba clan.

Then, Hiiragi did not like exorcists at all except for Natori, and even that man was blinded by stupidity most days.

The small mansion in the woods was not what anyone with any familiarity with the Matoba clan would expect, all dark wood and forbidding, uninhabited looking from the outside. Once inside however, Hiiragi had concluded that the Matobas had made up for its small side by adding even more eccentric and unnecessary decoration than normal. As she hovered in front of an especially unfortunate door, she felt the presence she had been searching for two whole days now, nearly hidden under the oozing miasma of selfish and cruel exorcists. Young Natsume was beyond this door.

If only she could get through it.

'Hurry up, Natori.' Hiiragi thought, sending a shikigami to alert Natori to her location. 'Natsume needs you.'

…..

"...such a critical achievement in the history of the Matoba clan, Matoba-san." Natsume heard with a wince as Matoba pulled viciously on a piece of his hair. Pulled from a much more pleasant daydream than his current reality, he anxiously took in his surroundings again. A very snobbish looking old exorcist was the one who was currently talking up Matoba. The fakeness of the emotions expressed made Natsume feel oily just by listening in. He squirmed uncomfortably as Matoba settled his hands on Natsume's shoulders, drawing the eyes of all the nearby exorcists involved in the conversation to Natsume.

"Yuuto-kun will make a fine addition to the Matoba clan's considerable resources. Such power has not been harnessed in the history of exorcists." One of Matoba's hands inched up Natsume's neck until it settled in his hair, playing idly but very pointedly with one of the beads there.

A message for Natsume, to remember that he was nothing but a tool and toy that Matoba would do whatever he pleased with.

Natsume stifled a yawn. For all the nerves and anxious anticipation that Matoba had built up in him, the end results seemed underwhelmingly anti-climatic. Despite being eyed and prodded and dissected by greedy eyes, Natsume hadn't been addressed by anyone besides Natori. Repetitive flattering words and endless politics went over his head, and despite the tension and sick unease in his stomach, Natsume himself had nothing to do, and it was exhausting after hardly sleeping since his captivity. His eyes wandered aimlessly. Exorcists bragged back and forth in the room, shiki shadowing their movements and making the room seem darker than it was. Candles flickered around the room. Matoba stood proudly at its center, basking in the presence of his clan, showing Natsume off like a prize to any who would draw close in greedy curiosity.

A bell tolled and the room stilled. Natsume felt his spine stiffen as the atmosphere of the room shifted.

"It is time." Matoba said. For all the postulating and bragging from before, he was rather silent now. Without another word, Matoba lifted the eyepatch from his face. His eyes zeroed in on Natsume instantly.

"When it arrives, you will kill the ayakashi." He ordered pleasantly. Natsume's head shook frantically, but he could not move his body to run as he wished to.

All was quiet and dark when the wind picked up. For the first time, Natsume noticed that there was a hole in the roof, the inky black depths of an overcast night blending near perfectly with the ceiling. A howl echoed through the night that made Natsume shiver. It was a cry of pain and anguish and rage.

It called to him for help.

And he had been ordered instead to kill it.

The yokai arrived like a gust of wind. One second it was but an unseen sound, the next its presence had filled and encompassed the whole room. Shikigami lit across the room, catching it midair as it hurled straight for Matoba. He looked up at it in mild amusement, enjoying its struggles against the spiritual protections in the room.

"That will not hold it long. Kill it now, Yuuto." He said, looking back at Natsume. Natsume's feet moved on their own, until he found himself standing just below the writhing yokai, hands outstretched until they hovered, millimeters from making contact. The yokai's roving eye instantly flitted down to meet his eyes, growing impossibly larger.

"Godling-sama," it growled. "Godling-sama save me. They have lied and hurt me." it pleads. Natsume's hand made contact.

The world is a vibrant sea of colors and shapes and people and depth and he has never seen so much beauty in the world around him. Had he been able to see those colors before? The smiling face of a human was dazzling, bright beams of colorful light visible in its presence and he loses his breath. This was what he had searched the world to find - this beauty. This moment. He finally understood what it meant to love.

Suddenly things were changing. His human friend needed his eye for the power it possessed, to help him accomplish something important to him. He didn't want to see his friend sad, so he would give his eye, but only if he could have a new one. It may not be the same as the one he had before, but he would relish the chance to understand and see the world like his little human friend did.

Pain. so much pain, and then a world tainted by muted colors. It felt as though half of the beauty was gone, the depth of the emotions visible was split, and he could not see nearly so much. Everything was flat and lifeless. Still, it was worth it for his friend. He would endure, and then he would cherish the chance to see something new.

But the day never came. The world grew more bleak, the days no brighter, and his vision was fading away to a paltry mockery of his past visions, a flat image that meant nothing. His human friend had lied. He had stolen all that was beautiful, and he needed it back. He hurt, and his missing eye _ached._

Let it end.

It had to end…

He would do anything to end the flat world.

Images of promises broken and years of disappointment crowded Natsume's head. This ayakashi had loved to see the world, but felt it could not enjoy the true sight of it without another eye. Maybe it was going about its desires the wrong way, but inside of it was a tiny drop of good.

Natsume could _not_ kill it.

"Kill it!" Matoba cried, his voice loud and echoing in the chamber. Natsume felt a tug at his will, but that was all it was, and he shrugged it off like a thread from a spider's web. The noise of the world seemed to slip away until Natsume's world was filled with silence.

Natsume was a god of spirits. Who was this man to command him how to interact with his spirits?

"I will not do it." Natsume did not recognize his own voice, echoing and overlaid with so many voices, but it was his, and he knew that with it, he could save this yokai from death.

Natsume may have changed, but there was one thing about him that had stayed the same.

Natsume would do everything he could to keep this yokai from dying.

….

Matoba couldn't believe his eyes.

Glistening golden eyes glared at him defiantly. Natsume had disobeyed him and had taken back his own will. And now he was surrounded by golden light, burning like a miniature sun in front of him. The black in that adorned his skin had transformed into lines of shimmering light that radiated power and authority. Matoba felt giddy, even as he had to rework his plans. He would make this work.

Natsume was magnificent. He was vibrant.

He was _Matoba's._

….

"You should reconsider your position, Yuuto." Matoba's mocking voice dug back into Natsume's hearing. Natsume could barely hear it, muted as the world was, but it drew his attention, and he felt a shivery flicker of fear course through him as he caught sight of the harsh smirk on that face.

As his eyes were drawn to Matoba's hand, pulling something out of a hidden pocket in his robes, he understood why. An unassuming jar was brought up to eye-level. Unassuming for all but the extensive and intricate runes that decorated its surface. He could sense a dangerous amount of protections on the jar, enough to harm a spirit were they to attempt to touch it or open it. And from that jar, the flickering hint of a familiar-

"Nyanko-sensei!" Tears immediately sprung to his eyes, knowing how much Nyanko would hate to be trapped in a jar, powerless. The new instincts that often ruled his body let him know that Nyanko-sensei was in danger in that jar, more so than in any other normal seal they had encountered-this seal was a torture device, meant to bring intense suffering and even death to its captives if the runes were activated rather than left as dormant seals to trap the spirit inside. And it was Natsume's fault Nyanko-sensei was there and in danger.

"Now, Yuuto~" Matoba practically purred, his smile widening. "You will kill that spirit, or your pet will be the one to suffer in its place."

Ice swept through Natsume's being, immediately replaced with a burning as he was consumed by rage.

Nyanko-sensei belonged to Natsume. No one else could touch him!

"Ah! Ah!" Matoba's eyes glittered with malicious intent. His hand crept up to the jar threateningly, hovering over several runes. "If you step even a foot out of line with my desires, your yokai friend perishes."

Natsume felt his anger stutter out of existence as a chilling realization came to his mind.

Natsume cared for all spirits. He would do anything for them - it was his _duty_ to do everything he could for them - but when it came down to the wire, he would kill an unknown ayakashi to save one that was _his._ Natsume had claimed Nyanko-sensei. Nyanko-sensei was his. This other ayakashi meant nothing in comparison.

The weight of Nyanko-sensei's name around his neck felt suddenly stifling. Natsume's hands moved to it unconsciously, clutching at the skin there. It felt warm and prickly under his touch.

Matoba had left him truly trapped, invisible strings or not.

….

Natori's eyes passed over the runes on the door critically, but also a bit hopelessly.

Leave it to the Matoba clan to act to their true nature and practice the banned methods they punished others for using. The door's seal had been built with a blood sacrifice, tying its use to their specific clan. No one outside the family would be able to manipulate or remove the seal on the door. It felt like overkill, but that fit the Matoba clan's style too well for it to surprise Natori.

But it also left him uselessly locked outside of the room he desperately needed into.

"You're sure he is here? Behind this seal?" he asked Hiiragi again.

"..." Her silence said enough.

Around them stood the crowd of yokai, all of Natsume's friends. Most hunched morosely with large pleading eyes, waiting on Natori's aid to get through the door. Others, like Hinoe, stood in disgust as far from the group as possible, but with deep frustration at the barrier in their way. Misuzu had been unable to get in the building. Only a harsh reprimand that he could hurt Natsume if he were to claw his way into the building, and that they needed someone to cover for them as they made their getaway, had kept him from charging in after their young friend.

In the back stood a vibrant blue fish-bird, eyeing the barrier critically.

"It is not ideal, but if we have no other options, I may have an unorthodox solution." The spirit said. Hinoe eyed the spirit critically, a sneer gracing her face.

"I would prefer to avoid that option if at all possible," she grunted. "I don't want to have to deal with the headache such an action would bring."

The yokai of the Dog Circle glanced between the two blankly. Natori sighed, sensing he would not like any solution that had the higher-powered spirits in the hall on edge.

But did they have any other choice at this point?

"...I'm all ears." he finally sighed. All eyes turned to the god of yokai as it seemed to straighten and become larger.

"I recently came into my position as a god of yokai. I should have enough residual energy from the original spiritual boost that I can use to blast apart the seal and still have enough energy left to help in Natsume's rescue."

"And?" Natori asked, sensing there was more to what they were offering than was being said.

"It may blast off the door." the spirit hedged reluctantly.

"And knock out all the yokai within this forest." Hinoe added glumly.

"Or deplete my spiritual energy enough to send me into a rage." the blue bird finished quietly.

"...oh boy."


End file.
